Seeing the Past, Present, and Future
by Niemand5
Summary: A strange girl, unknown by all suddenly appears in Grimmuald Place. Is she an attacker, sent by Voldermort? Some longlost relative? Or a warning to all? [Complete]
1. Prologue

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Prologue**

_"Honey, you must understand. When they come, don't make a sound. Make sure to stay deathly quiet. No matter what you hear do not move, do not cry, do not cough, do not sneeze."  
  
The teary eye girl nodded. "I-I'm so sorry, Daddy. It's all my fault," the girl said, bursting into sobs once more and hugging her father tightly.  
  
"It is not. Don't you ever say that. Don't you ever say that," he trailed off, returning the embrace.  
  
"Will you be okay?"  
  
"Of course. Nothing bad is going to happen," the man lied, knowing what was going to occur.  
  
The girl blinked away more tears. "Promise?"  
  
"Promise," the young girl's father said, clasping his hand to his heart.  
  
The wet-eyed girl nodded once more. "Don't ever leave me, Daddy!" she said, hugging him once more.  
  
"I'll always be here for you. In your heart and in your life. Now go."  
  
The girl ran, hoping that everything was going to be alright. Looking up, she searched for the attic's trap door. It was almost impossible to see unless you knew it existed. After several times she managed to clasp the small piece of string between her nails and pull it down with her weight. The broken ladder showed itself and she scrambled up to it, drawing it into the dark attic after her.  
  
She drew in a breath of the attic's dead air and held back the cough tickling her throat. It was all her fault! If only she hadn't been born, then everybody would have lived happy lives. _Everything's my fault!_ she thought, wiping away the tears stinging at her eyes.  
  
A large BANG shook the entire house and the young girl stifled a cry, hugging her knees to herself. There were sounds...muffled voices. The house shook again and her cry was lost in the sound. The voices were louder now, shouts, yells.  
  
A scream caused adrenaline to course through her veins. She couldn't take it anymore; she was going to help the only person in her life who actually cared for her. The small girl pushed open the attic's trapdoor with a loud clang. Rushing down it, she ran to the entry room, the room her father would be in.  
  
She froze. There were so many shadows, shadows that cackled evilly and seemed to be part of the darkness, slipping in and out of it with ease. One of the shadows spoke behind a dead mask but the words were no more than vibrations that passed through her flesh, leaving her with a feeling of unease. They were parting, why were they parting? Where was her father? And then he saw him, sitting unnaturally stiff, with eyes that were now glazed over, eyes that would no longer see again.  
  
The young girl screamed and fled into the darkness to avoid the darkness behind her. The shadows pursued her. The concrete beat against her bare feet and her pendant banged painfully against her chest. The shadows were chasing after her, barely grazing the ground in their following. Angry voices buzzed in her ears and suddenly two Latin words tore through the still night air.  
  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"  
  
The girl threw herself to the ground, as if some long lost instinct instructed her to, but not fast enough. The stream of green light hit her pendant, causing time, space, and girl alike to scream._

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own Harry Potter last I checked.


	2. Discovery

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Discovery**

"I can't believe they're making Harry come back here!"  
  
"I know! Why couldn't he come stay with _us_ or something?"  
  
"Technically he is coming to stay with you, the only problem is that _you're_ at Grimmauld Place, too."  
  
"Oh, be quiet."  
  
Both of Harry Potter's friends silently walked through the halls of Grimmauld Place.  
  
"How's he holding up?" Ron inquired of Hermione.  
  
"I don't know. He hasn't been answering any of my owls," Hermione exasperatedly replied.  
  
"Same here. Hate to admit it but somehow I hope his Aunt and Uncle are just keeping Hedwig from being let out." The red-haired boy sighed. "Do you know when he's coming?"  
  
"I don't know, but the later the better. For him."

* * *

"Harry!"  
  
"Harry, mate, good to see you."  
  
"Hello Hermione, hello Ron," the messy-haired boy replied, somewhat nervously.  
  
"How've you been?" Ron asked, slapping Harry on the back.  
  
"Good. I've been good," he uncertainly replied.  
  
"That's wonderful to hear, Harry," Hermione said, smiling.  
  
"Did you get our owls?" his other friend inquired, somehow attempting to tip-toe around the question.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah I did. You know, I've just been...busy," Harry distractedly replied, running his hand through his hair as they walked up the path to Grimmauld Place.  
  
"That's fine, Harry," Hermione replied, her voice full of energy as she hit Ron behind Harry's back for being so insensitive. "I can't believe all of the homework we were given over the summer, can you? I mean of course I've already finished all of it, but," Hermione continued speaking, attempting to show that Harry had all the reason in the world to be busy, even though all three of them knew he did not.  
  
"Hey, mate, do you want to play a game of quidditch?" asked Ron, wanting to drag the subject away from school.  
  
"It's okay. Think I'll just settle in, you know," Harry said looking around the walls of Grimmauld Place to avoid seeing his friends and their not-so-cleverly disguised looks of concern.  
  
"Okay, Harry," Hermione said, an understanding look on her face.

"Alright, mate. What do you--ow!" Ron was interrupted by Hermione "accidentally" stepping on his foot. "I mean, um, okay, we'll see you around." Both of Harry's friends exited his temporary room.  
  
_Why do they have to act like that?_ he thought with a surge of anger toward his friends. He knew they were just trying to be sympathetic, but he hated it. He had done his mourning for Sirius. Some might call him insensitive, but he found it best to mourn and feel those feelings of sadness and regret, and then lock them up. It was too painful to think about and his friends' concerns were more of a white-hot iron of pain to him than seeing Grimmauld Place. Grimmauld Place had never been connected to Sirius in his mind; the house itself had never been anything like Sirius, despite the fact he came from it.  
  
Standing up, Harry realized he had been lying back on his bed. He vaguely decided to walk around a bit, just to give him some more time to sort out his thoughts. _Have I even seen the whole house?_ Harry let his mind wander. Indeed, it turned out he had not, for he came upon a collection of rooms that he had never seen before. Soon his thoughts feel far away from his godfather and friends as he looked around the new rooms and the artifacts they held.  
  
Harry was picking up a small, delicately embroidered box, when suddenly a scream pierced the air, causing the blood in his veins to turn ice-cold. He dropped the box and whipped out his wand, edging uncertainly toward the door and glancing around the corner. Harry glanced into several of the surrounding rooms as the scream seemed to have come from nearby, although it could have just been a trick of the sound.  
  
Exiting a room, something caught his eye. A young girl was lying still on the floor. Harry felt his muscles tense. Considering all of the Dark Magic in Grimmauld Place, he wouldn't have been surprised if it was simply another trick. Harry edged uncertainly toward her, his wand out, as the sound of running people became audible.  
  
"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, embracing him.  
  
"We heard a scream, but we couldn't tell from where. What happened?" Charlie Weasley asked. Evidently he was at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, even if only temporarily.  
  
"I don't know," Harry spoke, his pulse returning to normal now that others were close by. "Something appeared but I'm not sure what--it," Harry was unsure what had prompted him to call the young girl "it," "Is. It might just be some of the Dark Magic around..." he trailed off.  
  
"Yeah," Charlie said uncertainly. "Are you okay?" he asked shooting a quick glance at Harry.  
  
Harry opened his mouth to make some remark about how tired he was of everybody asking him if he was alright when his godfather had just passed away. That is, before he realized that Charlie's concern undoubtedly spouted from the heard scream. "Um, yeah," Harry spoke, slightly embarrassed for his thoughts.  
  
Charlie nodded and edged into the room, Mrs. Weasley following. "Harry, I think you should go meet Ron and Hermione," she spoke sharply. Harry nodded and left, realizing they weren't quite sure what it was.

* * *

The girl vaguely felt herself being picked up before she welcomed the darkness back.

* * *

"So she's really just a girl?"  
  
"Not some Death Eater in disguise?"  
  
"Or some spell bent on killing us?"  
  
"Yes, she's just some girl. She doesn't have a wand on her, so as far as we know--" Mad-Eye Moody gave a cough before Mrs. Weasley scowled and finished. "So as far as we know, she's harmless."  
  
"Alright," Harry spoke, not quite sure whether or not he believed the Order members; they had kept things from him before.  
  
"And we're not lying to you," Tonks winked at Harry.

* * *

"That's weird," Hermione spoke, "She still hasn't woken up. It's been close to 18 hours."  
  
"I told you it was some spell!" Ron triumphantly said.  
  
"Oh, get a grip, Ron," his bushy-hair friend responded. "_It._ Honestly. She's just a lost five-year old girl."  
  
"_Lost?_ How'd she break the Fidelius charm then? Surely Dumbledore doesn't go around telling random people the address of the Headquarters," Ron replied.  
  
"No, of course not," Hermione spoke, annoyed.  
  
Harry watched his friends argue, and checked his watch. It was about 10 AM. Silently, Harry felt he agreed more with Ron than Hermione. Something just didn't seem...right.  
  
The girl's eyelids fluttered.  
  
"See!" Hermione swooped over to the girl's bed. "She's waking up." Hermione gave a rather pronounced look to Ron who had just been saying that since she was a Dark Magic spell she would never wake.  
  
"Hello," Hermione kindly spoke, leaning over the girl. The girl seemed to be teetering on the brink of unconsciousness. "I'm Hermione Granger."  
  
"Don't give it your name!" Ron hissed at her.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "This is Ron Weasley," the girl appeared to become confused. "And this is Harry Potter," she said, gesturing accordingly.  
  
The girl screamed.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor his world.


	3. Peculiar Behavior

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Peculiar Behavior**

The girl leapt up from her bed and started running towards the door. As if by reflex, Harry grabbed her wrist, and succeeded in keeping the girl from fleeing any long distance.

"We're not going to hurt you!" he yelled over her screams. These words were apparently of no comfort to the young girl as she continued to struggle in her attempt to flee. Slightly annoyed by the girl's behavior, Harry grabbed her other wrist, forcing her to face him. She, however, continued fighting and turned her head to gaze at the door, as if looking at it would teleport her outside.

"Shut up!" Harry yelled. "You're with us now and there's nothing you can do!" At this the girl stopped screaming and broke into sobs, collapsing to her knees. Harry shot a bewildered look at Ron and Hermione, the latter slowly approaching the crying girl as he let go of her wrists.

"No...dead...gone...evil...demon...insane..." the girl incoherently sobbed to herself.

"And then she started crying for no reason," Ron's voice came. Harry looked up and saw that Ron was talking to his mother, who happened to be standing in the doorway with several other Order members.

"Alright," Mrs. Weasley said, slowly entering the room. "Do you want to talk?" she kindly spoke, kneeling down to the crying girl.

Hermione shook her head. "I've been trying the same thing. She might need a calming draught."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, still looking at the small girl. "Alastor, can you check if we have any of that potion in stock?"

Mad-Eye Moody swiveled his electric blue eye upward. "We actually do. I wonder why we'd have that," he spoke, already walking toward the staircase.

The last two Order members entered the room, standing near the doorway.

"Wait," Tonks said, cocking her head. "What exactly did you say to her?"

"When she woke up, I just started introducing ourselves," Hermione nervously spoke. "Was that bad? I mean it didn't seem bad, it couldn't have been bad!" She, too, seemed as if she was on the verge of tears.

"No, well, it shouldn't--" Tonks cut herself off. The young girl had now gone rigid, raising her head to the ceiling. The three Order members (Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and Lupin) watched her intently, waiting for a hint of movement.

"Moon!" she yelled, a hint of dying hope in her voice, as she leapt to her feet and ran toward Lupin, grabbing onto him.

Lupin was bewildered by this behavior. "What?" he asked, not understanding the solitary word the young girl had uttered.

"The moon shall never hurt anyone; it is not of its way. The sun may destroy delicate heirlooms and steal lives, burning all in its path, but the moon is always gentle. The moon's light will be forever soft and welcoming, a lone traveler's friend and a thief's enemy, but the sun's light is harsh and blinding. And the sun can be of the shadow, for the sun _is_ the shadow. But the moon will never be of the shadow, for it is not of the moon's way. The moon is banished by the shadow, but that does not matter, for the moon would reject the darkness anyway. The moon reflects light onto our world at night, cutting through the blackness and keeping the shadows from ruling all. So just as the moon shall never hurt anyone, those from the moon will never hurt anyone and as lycanthropes are of the moon they, too, shall never harm those that come to them for help," the girl finished her long speech, whether prepared or not, one could not tell. Lupin had gone silent.

"I got the calming draught and--" Everybody looked at Moody, who was looking at Lupin with his mouth slightly open. "Guess we won't be needing it."

The room was uncomfortably silent for several moments. The girl continued holding onto Lupin, as if for dear life.

"Have you ever seen this girl before, Remus?" Mrs. Weasley asked, diving into the silence.

Lupin vehemently shook his head. More silence followed.

"I think we should get some Veritaserum, for the girl," Mrs. Weasley continued after a very long pause.

"I think that's a good idea," Lupin concurred, subtly trying to get the young girl to let go of him. She broke off the awkward hug she had been giving him and instead held onto his arm. The Order members slowly filed out of the room, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione alone.

"What was that?" all three of them spoke simultaneously.

A long pause followed the unanswered question before Ron spoke. "You know, I think Fred and George might've left some extendable ears," he trailed off. "Does anybody want me to go get them?"

All three of the teenaged children looked at each other, intensely curious but not wanting to violate the Order's privacy, for once. Ron took it as a silent yes, which, in a way, it was, and left the room.

Soon he returned, holding three flesh-colored pieces of string. "I already put them under the door," he unnecessarily whispered. The other two teenagers silently nodded, and inserted the Extendable Ear into their own.

"So...wait, how old are you then?" Tonks's voice asked.

"I'm nine," came the young girl's voice, flat from Veritaserum.

"You're nine? You don't look nine. Could she be lying?" Moody's voice snapped.

"Stop being so paranoid, Alastor," Mrs. Weasley sighed exasperatedly.

"Who did you live with there?" Tonks asked another question.

"I live with my father."

"No mother?" Mrs. Weasley asked, concern evident in her voice.

"My mother left when I was four."

"Why?" Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"Because that's when they found out about my powers. My mom didn't want to die, and she thought it was all my father's fault because he had a brother who was magic, too."

"So you're muggle-born?"

"Yes."

There was a pause. "How did you know I was a werewolf?" came Lupin's question.

"Daddy says it's because I was born on the blue moon."

"I've never heard any cases of that," Lupin spoke uncertainly.

"We can research it," Tonks said. "And there might be some exceptions, or something."

There was another pause; the Order members seemed to be contemplating their word choice.

"Do you know how you appeared here?"

"No."

"I think we should Floo Dumbledore and see if he has any questions he wants to ask."

"Good idea."

There was the sound of an opening container, a yell of "Dumbledore's Office!" and roaring fire.

"She is awake, I take it?" came the Headmasters voice. Whether or not Dumbledore was communicating through the fireplace or was actually in the room, they could not tell.

"She's under Veritaserum," Moody replied.

"What have you found out so far?" Dumbledore asked.

"She doesn't know how she got into Grimmauld Place. She told us the last thing she remembered before appearing here, but it doesn't seem to make much sense," Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"And we think," Tonks spoke uncertainly. "We think she comes--"

"Wait!" Lupin interrupted.

"What?" Tonks asked, concerned.

"We forgot to put an Imperturbable Charm on the door."

"Oh, you're right."

A spell was cast and everything fell silent except for Ron's curses of "Damn, damn, damn!"

* * *

Disclaimer: The honor of owning Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's.

Review Responses:

**fire-sprite-14**: Thank you so much. I'm flattered. :o)

**written**: Yes, the girl is an OC. I guess I failed to mention that. (Oops.) As for why she screamed....all will be revealed. Later. :-D And I'll definitely try to update as often as I can.

**Kuramakicksass**: lol. Thank you for the compliment and I just reviewed your story.

**HarmonyHanyou**: Why thank you. :-)


	4. Suspicious Past

**Seeing the Past, Present and Future**

**Suspicious Past**

"So they expect us to believe she's Lupin's nice."

"Uh-huh."

"Even though he'd never seen her before."

"Uh-huh."

"And she appeared out of thin air."

"Uh-huh."

"It could happen," Hermione spoke, interrupting Ron and Harry's limited conversation.

"You saw her and how she acts! She is _not_ normal. There's something fishy about her," Ron vehemently exclaimed.

"Stop being paranoid," she said, exasperated.

"You can't deny it, Hermione, it is a bit weird that she's going to be entering her first year at Hogwarts when she's only 9," Harry interjected.

"Maybe it is, but we don't know about her education in the past, or, for that matter, her past," Hermione replied.

"_Gosh_," Ron spoke sarcastically, "wonder why."

Hermione gave Ron a very pronounced glare. "Well, I'm sure we'll eventually find out more about her."

* * *

"What books do you have to get this year, Ron?"

"Just the standard one's we have to get every year, Mum."

"Would you mind if wandered off to buy some things? I've been meaning to come here anyway."

"We'll be fine," the red-haired boy spoke.

"Alright," Mrs. Weasley finished, separating from the group of teenagers.

"Harry, once we finish buying our books do you want to go check out Quality Quidditch Supplies?" Ron said eagerly.

"Sure," Harry replied, smiling.

"Wouldn't you like to stay with our first-year friend for a bit while she gets her supplies?" Hermione interrupted, giving them a pointed look.

"Er--I'm sure she'll be fine with Lupin, he knows all of the stores after all," Ron said, making sure to not make eye-contact with Hermione.

"We can stay for a bit," Harry spoke, attempting to compromise between his two friends.

Hermione smiled widely. "I'm sure it'll be fun."

Harry shot a glance at the small girl who was still clinging protectively to Lupin's arm. Her red-rimmed eyes seemed to be staring at an unfixed spot on the pavement as they continued moving. Before they had left for Diagon Alley, she had broken into inexplicable tears, leaving all of them immensely confused.

"What books do you have to get?" Harry asked the small girl, making a brave attempt at conversation.

The girl continued staring at the pavement for a moment longer before looking up, as though suddenly realizing the question was directed at her. She looked at Harry with something he couldn't identify, grasped Lupin's arm a bit more firmly and looked back down at the ground before answering. "I don't know," her soft words came, barely audible over the ruckus of Diagon Alley.

Harry nodded before Lupin elaborated slightly, taking out the list of books. "Almost the same as the books in your first year," he spoke.

"You know, Professor Lupin," Ron started, anger evident in his voice as a small pebble in his way was sent flying. "I never knew you had a sibling."

"What?" Lupin spoke, giving Ron a look that showed his confusion. "I don't," he trailed off.

"Then how is she," Ron gestured to the young girl who seemed to be ignoring their words, "your niece?"

"Huh? Uh," Lupin paused for a moment. "Let's think...She's the granddaughter of my step-father's brother," he spoke slowly, thinking out his words. "I just call her my niece to simplify things."

Ron opened his mouth but closed it when no words came out; he seemed to be fuming that his attempt to prove his theory right had failed.

"Ron, do you want to come with me to buy some treats for Crookshanks?" Hermione asked, her eyes livid.

"Fine," he spoke, not seeing his friend's anger.

"We'll going to go to the apothecary while you do that," Lupin said, turning into a small store to their left.

"We'll be fast," Hermione replied, heading toward the Magical Menagerie.

"Why are you buying treats for Crookshanks?" Harry asked, missing the tension.

"I'm not," she hissed as soon as they entered the store's door.

"Then why--" Harry started, but Hermione cut him off.

"You can't go asking questions like that!" she exclaimed in a deadly whisper.

"Huh?" Harry asked, not aware the comment wasn't directed toward him.

"Don't you have any common sense?!"

"Well, excuse me, but I'm tired of everybody discarding my theories without even evaluating them! And something is up, whether you want to admit it or not." Ron angrily replied.

"Yes, and just so you know I've been able to tell that for some time, but you can't just _assume_ things like that without testing them! And we'll never find anything out with you asking questions so brashly!"

Ron opened his mouth, although at first no words came out. "We have to do something! You're certainly not doing anything!"

"I _am_ doing something, as you'd see if you paid attention. If she feels comfortable with us, as I've been attempting at for the past few weeks, then she's more likely to open up, and then we'll find out things directly from her, as opposed to forming our own ideas which have no validity! And even if I didn't want to know more about her, you should be nice anyway and not always assume the worst of people!" Hermione finished.

Ron was once more at a loss for words and Harry watched on with some amusement; Hermione had been being more clever in her strategizing than he'd given her credit for.

"Fine," Ron said, with an expression on his face which suggested he'd just eaten something very bitter. "We'll try your way, just for now!"

"That's all I'm asking," Hermione replied, smiling and leading the way out the door.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Review Responses:

**Chantal J: **Thanks for the compliments and sorry this update took a while.

**Maggie: **Don't worry, I'll keep writing! Hope the update didn't take too super long.

**Kurmakicksass: **You only got one review?! You're kidding! That's so unfair! And here's another chapter. (Well technically you've just read the chapter...) I'll try to update The Tale of Tom soon, although I won't guarantee anything.


	5. Arriving at Hogwarts

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Arriving at Hogwarts**

"Where's my broom?"

"What about my books?"

"How can you be _missing_ a book? Your trunks packed full!"

"I'm only missing _one_ book for your information."

"So? Leave it!"

"Well, the one time we needed it in our second year we didn't have it, did we? I refuse to make that mistake again."

"Oh, your lovely book of history about our school. Well, me being the non-existent optimist I am, would like to think that nothing bad is going to happen this year, much less that great bloody serpent rising up from the dead."

The small girl who had arrived a month ago made an imperceptible sound of fear and her eyes went wide. "But nothing bad is going to happen," Hermione hurried to state. "I might need it for an essay or something, though."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'll help you look for your _book_," the red-haired boy spoke, influencing the fact it was singular, "If you'll help me look for my broom. And my Prefect's badge," he added, upon seeing his pockets were empty.

"Fine. Say, where's Harry?" Hermione's voice faded as both she and Ron exited the entry room.

Harry poked his head into said entry room and quietly snuck in. He was tired from packing his trunk in such a rush, and still hadn't eaten breakfast, something he was now attempting to do while sitting upon the aforementioned trunk.

Harry was slightly startled when the small girl beside him spoke a greeting; he hadn't noticed her, quietly sitting upon her own trunk. "Mmphgh," he replied, his mouth full of the toast he was attempting to scarf down. "Hello," he rearticulated. An uncomfortable silence filled the small room with the exception of the sound of Harry eating his toast. "Erm--how are you?" the older boy asked wishing to be rid of the, what he considered, awkward silence.

The girl looked up from the floor, at Harry, and blinked, very slowly, several times. She turned her head back down to its original position before replying. "I'm fine."

"Mmm," Harry spoke, feeling he should give a reply. "That's good," he added rather stupidly. "Are you looking forward to school?"

The girl bit her lip, a small action Harry didn't notice, and nodded.

"That's good," he repeated for the second time in several moments. "I'm sure you'll do well."

The young girl nodded in acknowledgment that Harry had spoken, with her eyes still focused on a spot on the floor. Whether or not she had really heard what Harry had said could be debated.

"Harry, there you are, mate," Ron spoke, striding towards the Boy-Who-Lived with Hermione next to him. Trailing behind them were Ginny and Mrs. Weasley

"Harry, you're already packed! That's wonderful. Ron and Ginny," Mrs. Weasley gave them the severe look of a mother, "seemed to have managed to misplace almost all of their belongings."

"Sorry, Mum."

"Yeah, sorry, Mum."

"I'm not mad, dears, just annoyed. I don't want to be late. At least Arthur was able to get us a Ministry car."

"That's good," Harry said, standing up.

"I think Fred and George might be meeting us at the station to see us off. I know Lupin is," Mrs. Weasley said, touching Lupin's "niece" lightly on the shoulder.

The small group left Grimmauld Place; a single ministry car was parked about a block down. All six of them fit in easily, with the car magically expanding. The young girl was very startled by this and for most of the ride she clung to Hermione.

They reached the King's Cross much more quickly than they had by foot the previous year, and Harry was struck by a pang of sadness in remembering how Sirius had accompanied them in dog form the year before, as well. He looked up and saw that the young girl, supposedly Lupin's niece, was no longer walking besides Hermione, but rather next to him, and giving him a rather sympathetic look. She seemed to think about patting him on the shoulder, but hesitated, and instead gave him a small smile before quickening her pace and walking besides Hermione once more.

"So are you looking forward to school this year?" Mrs. Weasley asked, slowing her pace so she would be walking besides Harry.

"I guess," he replied rather non-committally, his thoughts still mainly on Sirius.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to understand that his thoughts were elsewhere, for she didn't say anything else.

"Lupin!" the young girl spoke happily, immediately rushing to his side.

"Hello," he replied, smiling down at her fondly. "I see you all arrived safe and sound," Lupin said to the rest of the group.

"I don't suppose you have any news on Fred and George?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, they called to say they couldn't come. Some business matter of one type or another."

"That's too bad. Of course, Arthur couldn't come either. So, who wants to go first?" Mrs. Weasley spoke, changing topics upon arriving at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

"We can go first," Ron said, gesturing towards Hermione and himself. They set off at a run and, quite suddenly, had totally disappeared.

Harry smiled slightly at the puzzled look on the to-be first year's face. "Ginny and I can go next," Harry offered. "You'll need to explain about the barrier," he said, gesturing towards Lupin's very confused niece.

"Shall we run?" Harry asked Ginny, with a slight smile.

"My thoughts exactly," she replied with a smile of her own.

_I've never noticed before,_ Harry thought, _Ginny has a rather nice smile._

They both passed through the barrier and came in view of their friends.

"Let's wait for your mom and Lupin to come through before we try to find a compartment," Hermione said, approaching Harry and Ginny with Ron trailing behind.

"That's a good idea," Harry replied.

They stood near the entry-way for several moments before Lupin and his niece appeared. It seemed they had walked through it, as opposed to running, and the young girl still seemed very startled, as she kept looking behind her with wide eyes. A moment later, Mrs. Weasley had also arrived.

"Let's go find a compartment and set our trunks down," Ron spoke.

"Sounds good. We'll be back in a moment, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione replied.

"I want to try and sit with Luna," Ginny said as they started walking towards the train, trunks in tow.

"You know, I think I'd like to too," Harry replied, recalling the comfort she had given him after Sirius's death.

"Alright," Ron spoke, slightly surprised. "Let's try to find her, then."

Those words were actually extremely easy to live up to, as the first compartment they entered contained the girl they had been talking about.

"Hello, Luna," Ginny said brightly. "Mind if we join you?"

"Go ahead," the blonde-haired girl replied, lifting up her eyes for a brief moment before returning them to The Quibbler.

They put away their trunks before Hermione spoke. "We should go back out to see your mother, Ron."

"Yeah, we did tell her we would, didn't we," said Ginny.

"Alright, but when's the train--" Ron's asking of when the train would depart was cut short by the train's piercing whistle.

"Guess it's leaving now," Harry said to Ron with a smile.

Ginny stuck her head out the open window and waved to her mother. The rest of the compartment followed suit, with the exception of Luna, whose father had already left.

"Are you entering your first year?" Luna asked of the young girl who had silently followed the rest of the group, not knowing anyone else on the train.

She mutely nodded, looking at her feet, which were currently swinging back and forth. (She was too short for them to reach the floor.)

"I find I love every year at Hogwarts," Ginny spoke brightly.

"We're--we're going to Hogwarts?" the young girl asked with wide eyes.

Harry noticed the youngest girl's glancing at the door, and, for a moment, he was strongly reminded of the way Pettigrew had kept looking at the door so many years ago, when he had been confronted by Sirius and Lupin.

"Of course we're going to Hogwarts!" replied Ginny, practically bouncing in her seat with positive energy. "It's only the best wizard school in England!"

The girl made a leap towards the compartment door but Harry, expecting something along those lines to happen, grabbed her around the wrists.

"Let me go!" she sobbed.

Harry, realizing he probably looked rather strange grabbing a supposedly eleven year old girl for no apparent reason, decided he ought to say something to make the situation a little less awkward. "Are you alright?" he asked, figuring that was a good start.

The girl made another attempt to escape the compartment, but, upon failing, she broke into large sobs.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, concern evident on her face.

"Just let me go. Let me go," she repeated plaintively.

Harry, feeling that he ought to comply, let go of her wrists gently. Even if she had wished to escape, that wouldn't have been possible, as Hermione, Ginny, and Ron unintentionally blocked her path.

The young girl raised a shaking finger to Hermione and said, "They'd kill you, too, if you weren't already dead."

Hermione, hurt by this cryptic, yet obviously hostile message, backed away slightly.

"Don't worry," Ginny said, attempting to comfort the younger girl, "Everything will be okay. Hogwarts is really safe."

The young girl seemed to calm down very slightly, as she crawled to her seat and didn't make any further attempt to escape. Instead, she curled up and cried softly.

The compartment looked at each other uncomfortably for the duration of her sobs. Finally, they faded away and Ginny checked on the girl, seeing that she had fallen asleep.

"What did she mean?" Hermione asked the silent compartment, obviously rattled by what the young girl had said to her.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Ron spoke. "She was probably just trying to hurt you, or scare you, without any real thought to her words."

"Yeah, after all, they don't even have any meaning," Ginny added.

Hermione nodded, seemingly comforted by their kind words.

The next hour passed in relative peace, talking about the upcoming school year, who they thought the Defense Against the Dark Art teacher might be, and playing exploding snap. At around twelve o'clock the food trolley arrived, and Harry bought "lunch" for the entire compartment.

"Is she awake?" Hermione asked, gesturing towards the sleeping girl.

"I don't think so," Ron replied, ripping open a Pumpkin Pasty. "Aren't you mad at her?"  
he added.

She sighed in response. "No, not really. I suppose you guys were right. She was really agitated for some reason and she took it out on me. I'm not really mad at her," Hermione repeated again. "I'm going to try and wake her up," the bushy-haired girl added after a moment.

She shook the younger girl gently, and the latter slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

_Odd,_ Harry thought_, I could have sworn her eyes were open a mere moment before._ But he put it out of his mind with ease and instead focused his energy on avoiding any dangerous jelly beans from his bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Time passed much too quickly on the Hogwarts express, for they were soon at the school itself, clad in their black wizard robes.

"Good luck at the sorting ceremony!" Hermione whispered to their first-year friend, as she gave her a gentle push towards the other first years.

Feeling, for the first time, utterly alone, she made her slow steps towards the lake, following the noisy mass of young students.

"Four to a boat, no more!" she heard a rough voice call. It seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't pin it to a particular person. The boats quickly filled, every person wishing to sit with their friends, and soon there were no empty boats which she could sneak on without being noticed. She cautiously approached a boat with three chatting girls and intended to ask if she could join, but the words got stuck in her throat. Instead she simply took a seat, upon seeing she was the only one left standing without a boat. The boats immediately started moving forward without, it seemed, any source of energy. She peeked over the edge of the boat and left the three girls to chat among themselves as she stared at the inky water.

The boats quickly arrived in an underground dock, and she had to restrain her impulse to flee. Instead, she reminded herself of Ginny's words and what Lupin had told her earlier.

The group of first years was brought through several rooms before arriving at one last room, where they stopped. Her thoughts were much too busy to have noticed the rooms before hand, or to notice the elderly woman who was speaking to them. Despite all of the nervousness and her rapidly beating heart, fearful of betrayal, she couldn't help but be slightly excited_. If this is real, I'm going to do the best I can, Daddy!_

The young girl's thoughts were interrupted as she felt herself being shuffled into a single file line. Slowly, the first years, with her among them, made their solemn procession into the Great Hall to be sorted.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or the world he lives in.

A/N: Sorry for such a long time between updates; I had a bit of Writer's Block, which I'm hopefully over now. The next update will probably come once my Winter Break has started, in about 2 weeks. And thank you to Kuramakicksass for beta-reading this chapter. (She asks that you check out her story, "The All-American Rebel.") For mere curiosity's sake, could you tell me which house you think the main character will be sorted into?

* * *

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**Chantal J: **Thank you, and don't worry about it; I'm just happy you're reading my works. :o)


	6. Moonlit Warning

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Moonlit Warning**

"Where is she?"

"I'm not sure, I can't see her."

"Is that her?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Oh! There she is, near the very back."

"You're right, I can see her. She really _is_ short."

"Ron!"

The trio of friends abruptly stopped their conversation as the hat burst into song. They respectfully clapped afterwards and noticed that, once again, there was a warning in the hats song, though much more subtle than the previous year. The clapping faded away as Professor McGonnagall took out a long scroll and loudly stated the first name upon it.

"Asher, Gary!"

A boy, who was at least a head taller than all of the other first years, cautiously and slowly started walking towards the Sorting Hat. The first year's nervous face showed some relief when he was greeted with great applause by the Hufflepuff's table.

"Barclay, Valentine!" Professor McGonagall called after the Hufflepuff's applause had faded away.

A girl with her dark brown hair put up in a ponytail walked quickly towards the hat. The hat seemed to be debating which house to put her in, as it was a few moments before it shrieked to the hall: "RAVENCLAW!"

The table with a blue banner over it broke into applause and the girl was quickly welcomed to the table of fellow Ravenclaws.

More students were called and sorted in this matter, with each one receiving a warm welcome. Harry wasn't sure how many names had been called (or how much time had passed) when he heard their friend's name called.

She walked, as though in a rush, to the hat and didn't raise her eyes from the ground until the hat was put upon her head. As the hat slide over her eyes Harry noticed, for the first time, that her eyes were the exact same shade of brown as her hair. The patched hat was silent for what seemed like a very long time before it opened its "mouth" and told the entire hall which house the their young friend would be in.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table around Harry broke into applause. He, Ron, and Hermione all looked dumbfounded, although Hermione quickly recovered and broke into applause, giving the newly-branded Gryffindor a seat next to her.

"How did she get into Gryffindor!" Ron exclaimed in a whisper to Harry, who was sitting besides him.

"I have no idea," Harry mouthed as the clapping died down and another student was called up to the hat.

How _had_ she gotten in? After all, Gryffindor was supposed to be the courageous house, the brave house. At least from what Harry had seen so far, she certainly did not have this trait ascribed to the Gryffindors. The messy-haired boy tried to put aside this train of thought and comfort himself by thinking, "The hat's never been wrong before," although this did not help much. After all, there was a first time for anything.

Harry, being immersed in his thoughts, did not even notice when food appeared, until Ron prodded him and asked if anything was wrong. Harry absent-mindedly responded, "no" and proceeded to putting food on his plate.

After a very large dinner and many tasty desserts, the tables were cleared and Dumbledore stood up at the top of the faculty table. "Good evening students, both returning and new. I hope this is the start of a happy and productive year in which we shall all be a contribution to our house. I would also like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Douglas Sullivan."

This was met with applause from the hall as the man who had been sitting next to Snape stood up. The potions professor was looking at the new teacher with what seemed like suspicion, but a split second later it was just the usual loathing Snape regarded every new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers with, leaving Harry to doubt whether he had seen anything at all. Professor Sullivan himself was a rather burly man of slightly less than average height, in what one could tell was obviously new robes. His glasses were very small and looked rather strange sitting upon his face, as though he had grabbed them from some random person, as opposed to owning them himself. The professor's light brown eyes were rather calculating, and they had a sort of sneakiness about them, glancing around the entry hall rapidly.

"To quickly move onward, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds for all students and only third-years and above can go to Hogsmeade. I won't hold you any longer as I am sure you are tired, so you are all now dismissed. Prefects, please show the first years the way to their respective common rooms." There was a great amount of noise as all of the students stood up. With a quick "excuse me" Hermione and Ron disappeared to the front of the Gryffindors to perform their prefectly duties. Harry let himself slip to the back of the crowd as they started the walk toward their common room.

"Hullo, Harry. Have a good summer?"

"It was…okay. Did you get a new wand, Neville?"

"Yeah, I really like it. Hey, have you seen Luna?"

"We sat with her on the train. If you want to talk to her you'll probably have to wait until tomorrow; I don't know where the Ravenclaw's rooms are."

"Aw, nah, I was just wondering. Is Ginny up ahead?"

"I assume so."

"Alright, I'm going to try and catch up with her. Bye, Harry!"

Harry silently waved goodbye before putting his hands back in his pockets. Already the air was starting to become colder, tinted with the feeling of Autumn. When Harry arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait it was already open and the Gryffindor's in front of him were climbing through. He'd have to find out the password from Ron or Hermione later. When he walked into the common room, it seemed everyone was heading up the stairs to their beds. Harry thought about following suit, but instead he decided to sit in front of the blazing fire. It radiated a warmth that seemed to demand one sit in front of it for at least a moment or two. But as he sat down in a soft chair he realized how incredibly tired he was. He knew he should go upstairs to sleep but his limbs were so tired…maybe it would be okay if he sat there just a bit longer…

* * *

When he woke up the only light that could be seen was the beams of moonlight that fell through the window. Things were rather blurry and he realized that his glasses had slipped off his face.

"You should go to bed, Harry." Harry looked around the room to try and pinpoint the voice but all he could see was a small, blurry figure of black and white lines and shadows. "And Harry?" The voice seemed to be retreating. "Be wary of the new teacher."

* * *

When Harry awoke the next morning in his Gryffindor bed, he wondered if it had simply been a surreal dream. Still though, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that the warning was real.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get up. I should really try to update more often but I'm so incredibly busy. Well, anyway, please review.

Review Responses:

**Kuramakicksass: **See? I included a description of a Sullivan! But I know, I should do more. Do you think you could help me with that sometime? Oh, and there's another chapter of The Tale of Tom up.


	7. Midnight BreakIn

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Midnight Break-In **

"We have Defense Against the Dark Arts now, right?"

"Yeah. I wonder what horrible flaw _this_ teacher has."

"Ron! You don't know that. At least we _have_ a teacher this year; I was afraid we might not. Imagine if they got rid of the subject! It'd be awful!"

"Considering all we learned from Umbridge last year we might as well not even had it. Still though, Ron makes a point. If he's qualified and all why didn't he take the job earlier? And you can't say he just got out of school because he's at least 50."

"I wasn't going to say that," Hermione said in a tone which suggested that she was just about to say something along those lines. "Maybe he's from a foreign country."

"That could actually work if he was working abroad and returned to England this year. Maybe we'll actually have a qualified teacher which isn't possessed, a werewolf, or a Death Eater!"

Harry laughed. "There's the optimistic Ron we all know!"

The trio was all laughing when they walked in the classroom door. The bell hadn't rung yet and students were standing around and talking, the better students sitting in their desks and talking. It seemed to be a pretty ordinary classroom and dusty rays of sunshine fell through the scratched windows. Although the classroom was not dirty in anyway, it still had the feeling of disuse, as though only a few people had set foot in it the past decade.

The chatting of his fellow classmates quickly disappeared as Professor Sullivan strode through the door in a business like matter. Silently, the new teacher opened a briefcase and took out several sheets of paper along with his wand. Harry could already tell he was very organized.

"Brown, Lavender."

Lavender raised her hand from the back of the classroom and Sullivan glanced up as he marked her present. Silently going through the list, he looked up after stating each name and Harry realized, for the first time, just how many kids there were in his class. There was a slight pause and Harry looked up, wondering if roll was done. But, no, that couldn't be. His name hadn't been called yet.

"Potter, Harry," the teacher said, slowly and with a slight smile tugging at his lips.

Harry glanced up as he silently raised his hand. Well, at least Professor Sullivan hadn't made a big show of being surprised to meet him, like many of Harry's teachers had in his first year. His rather lazy thoughts were interrupted by a loud bark.

"Class! Wands out!"

* * *

"That was fun," Ron said as they exited the classroom.

"And useful, too," Hermione commented.

They had spent the period practicing a new shield charm which, instead of absorbing the attack, splintered it and sent it back to the opponent. While they were doing this, they had also practiced their dueling skills.

"He's a pretty good teacher, maybe we can actually learn something this year," Ron replied, smiling happily.

"Yeah," Harrysaid rather distractedly. Something about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher rubbed him the wrong way, a feeling, obviously, his friends did not share. And considering the scraps of conversations he had overheard from other Gryffindors' conversations, his friends' opinion of the new professor was widely shared.

The trio of friends found their way to the Great Hall where lunch had already appeared upon the gleaming gold plates. They took their seats and Ron was soon eating voraciously, with Hermione expressing her disbelief at how much he could devour in such a brief period of time. Harry put a small amount of food on his plate but he wasn't feeling particularly hungry, something his friends would have thought out of the ordinary if they were not so busy squabbling among themselves.

"Hello, Harry."

Harry jumped slightly but then returned the greeting to their rather odd young friend, who was currently sitting besides him.

"Have you had Defense against the Dark Arts yet?" she inquired.

"Yes, have you?"

"Yes."

Silence reigned over them while they both thought of how to say what they were thinking. Finally, Harry broke the ice with a question which encompassed his own opinion. "What do you think of the new teacher?" he spoke slowly.

"I don't like him. Not in the least." She opened her mouth to say something more, but evidently decided against as she closed it again.

Harry smiled, glad someone shared his opinion. "I don't like him either. He just strikes me as...off."

She looked at him and smiled mischievously. "And I thought I was the only one."

* * *

"So what exactly are we looking for?" Harry whispered, jumping slightly at how loud it seemed in the quiet corridor. 

"Anything. And we have to remember to not whisper across the classroom; someone might hear us and investigate. Normally any sound at night is investigated." She tried the classroom's doorknob. "Aw, it's locked. _Alohomora!_"

Harry followed the young Gryffindor girl. Truthfully, he was a bit doubtful of their plan now. What if they were caught? And hadn't he misjudged people's characters before? In his first year he had thought Snape was trying to get the Sorcerer's Stone but, in fact, he had been the one trying to protect it. Couldn't they be misjudging Sullivan's characters? "Look," Harry started, lightly touching her on the shoulder. "Maybe...maybe we shouldn't be doing this."

She looked up at him with eyes which suggested she was thinking "What, you gonna back out now, Chicken?" Harry avoided her look and tried to put out another argument. "I mean, what if we get caught? You really shouldn't get a spot on your record so early into the school year."

The girl he was talking to continued looking up at him and said "If you don't want to go in, fine, but I am. I _know_ something is weird and don't you lie, I know you felt it too." When Harry didn't respond she pointed her finger in the direction from which they had came and said in a voice above a whisper: "If you want to go, then go. If we're wrong, which we're not, it won't matter because we won't leave any trace that we were here. Now," she propped open the door a bit more, "are you coming?"

Harry, still fighting some small part of himself, nodded and walked in the door, stuffing his invisibility coat in his pocket. (He was not actually the first person who suggested he should bring it, the friend he was with now had suggested it. Harry had been slightly surprised that she knew about it and she herself had had a look on her face like she was afraid of being caught. When asked how she knew, she had replied, in more of a question than a statement, that she had overheard Harry talking about it over the summer. Harry wasn't sure if he entirely believed that, but he hadn't thought of it as of much importance, and thus he had put it out of his mind.)

"You search the file cabinets, I'll searchthe briefcase," she whispered as she carefully shut the door. Harry nodded and opened the top drawer of the file cabinet. It was incredibly heavy and he saw that it was full of papers with the tabs of the files containing the names of different students. He took one out and quickly looked at the few sheets of paper. The first sheet had a list of a few spells, in a rather shaky handwriting, and letter grades next to them. A sentence at the bottom summarized the grades and stated that the student needed to focus more. The second sheet was about half a page long and written in a large, fancy script and magenta ink. Harry looked over it and realized that it must have been written by Lockhart because although the first sentence mentioned the student, saying they were not excited enough about the class, after that it deteriorated to self-praise. The third (and fourth) pages were written in a neat, familiar printing, and divided into several paragraphs. Each paragraph discussed a different defensive topic and how the student had done at it. At the end of these two pages was a paragraph describing the student overall and Remus Lupin's signature. At this point, it struck Harry that these were students' Defense Against the Dark Arts portfolios. The first page must have been Quirrell's, with each teacher leaving behind grades and descriptions of the students at the end of the year. He looked at the next page and saw that it was consistent with the course Moody (or rather the imposter Crouch) had taught. There was no page after that and, after a moment's thought, Harry realized why. All of the previous teachers had at least lasted until the end of the year. Quirrell and Lockhart would have already written their end of the year reports by the final week and Lupin and Crouch knew they were going to be leaving. Umbridge had been driven out of the school too early to write anything, and this was in addition to being busy as the "Headmaster" before that.

Harry closed the drawer (which took longer than it should have as it was now several meters long) and decided to try the next one. This one was considerably shorter and seemed to contain a variety of papers. The first folder contained lists of books and brief summaries. Harry had just put back that folder and was about to pick up a second one when his Gryffindor friend quickly hissed his name.

"_Harry!_"

Harry looked up and saw that she had already closed Sullivan's briefcase, a piece of paper clenched in her hand. Oddly enough, she was running toward him with a frantic look on her face. She slammed shut the file drawer with surprising stillness and pushed Harry aside, pulling the invisible cloak out of is pocket and covering both of them in the process. He was about to yell at her, to ask what she was doing, when the door to the classroom silently opened and in walked Professor Sullivan.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

A/N: Next chapter should come next weekend. Oh, and please leave a review on your way out.

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	8. Confusing Code

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Confusing Code**

Sullivan looked around as he walked in, after checking the door handle several times to see that it was not locked (which wasn't how he had left it). The new professor seemed to be able to tell that someone had been in his office as he was cautious, and Harry saw that his hand kept drifting to his pocket, where presumably his wand was. He slowly sat down and opened his briefcase, casting glances around the room all the while. Harry silently hoped she had put back the papers in the same order they were in before as he certainly seemed to know what order they _should_ have been. Seemingly satisfied, he closed his briefcase and proceeded to the file cabinet, which was only half a meter away from Harry and his friend. Sullivan opened each drawer in turn, scanning through its contents briefly and by the end of his search he was frowning slightly. Harry held his breath. Had he put something back in the wrong place? But the professor didn't seem to have noticed anything as he grabbed his briefcase and left the classroom, giving the empty walls one last suspicious look.

Harry pulled off the invisibility cloak and breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the sound of the door's lock. The girl next to him put her finger up to her lips as a sound of silence but she, too, seemed a bit more relaxed. "Let's go," she whispered after a moment.

Harry nodded and stood up. "Should we use the cloak?"

"Can't be too safe," was her response.

Harry nodded and swept it around both of their hunched over figures. (Really, Harry was the only one that was hunched over but the girl ducked her head slightly too, as though feeling she ought not to be standing up perfectly straight, although she could have at her stature.) They walked slowly back to the Gryffindor common room, only taking off the invisibility cloak when they were standing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. She swung aside (with a rather reproachful look to the both of them) and they stumbled in. Harry suddenly had the urge to laugh. They had done it--and without getting caught! The young, brown-haired girl to his left also seemed more relaxed than she had when they were going to the classroom.

"Here," she said, forcing herself to focus on the business at hand. "I got a sheet of paper that might mean something. It looks like it's written in--well, code wouldn't be the right word, but it's written rather...choppily," she finished, still not sure whether she had described it well.

"Let me see?" Harry spoke.

"Sure," she replied handing the sheet to him. It _was_ written rather oddly. There seemed to be several columns, each labeled with some acronym, and each column held something different. All of them held numbers except for one column which had a number and then a (seemingly random) word. "DOA," Harry spoke, reading aloud the acronym that labeled the first column. "What could that stand for?"

They both thought for a bit before the young girl finally shrugged. "Hey, I'm really tired. Would you mind if I head to bed? You should probably do the same, too. Wouldn't do for you to fall asleep in some class," she added the last part with a smile.

Harry vaguely nodded, still looking at the sheet. _DOA, DOA, what could it possibly stand for? _If he knew what just one of the letters it would help. But he couldn't figure out even one; there were countless words that begin with "D" or "A." The "O" might stand for "or" (as he noticed in this column there were two numbers with a dash between them) or "of." But were words like that even included in an acronym?

Harry sighed and rubbed his temples. The only word in the first column was "Painsthorpe" and he had no idea what it meant. It was probably code for something. That or something painfully obvious he was looking over. Perhaps he should be getting to bed. Harry sleepily blinked his eyes and wrapped up the piece of paper in his invisibility cloak, resolving to look at it another day.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know, horribly bad pun. Not intentional, though. And my apologies for this chapter being so short, but this is really the best place to break it, I think. At least I've been updating! And please review… 

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

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	9. The Pendant

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**The Pendant**

It had now been more than a month since school had started. The air was slowly becoming colder and students were now never seen without at least one cloak. In the mornings one could always see their breath and Harry would not have been surprised if the condensation froze in mid-air one day. People seemed to be coming down to breakfast later than usual and Harry suspected it was because they, like him, didn't want to leave their warm covers and beds. At night, the fire was fiercely competed for and a sort of unspoken system had started working into play where no one could sit in front of the fire two days in a row. The common room had also become more crowded on the weekends, when they had free time, because it seemed people were reluctant to travel into the large, stony, and more importantly, cold, hallways of Hogwarts. Luckily, the house elves seemed to have caught on as they were now preparing warmer food in addition to now offering warm drinks, such as tea or hot chocolate, instead of cold pumpkin juice. Up in the Gryffindors' tower, morning frost had started lining the windows and the lake looked like a huge pool of black ink, undoubtedly freezing. Harry, being one of the older boys, had his room higher up in the tower and found at night the sheets were freezing. Often times he and Ron would stay up late in the common room, unwilling to leave the warmth of the dying fire.

It was on one of these many cold days, the type of days where everybody rushed up to their warm rooms as soon as they had performed whatever duty they had had to finish, when Harry, walking with Ron, caught notice of a familiar voice.

"Give it _back_!"

Harry stopped and looked at Ron.

"Oh, look, the Mudblood girl wants her necklace back," came a drawling voice, followed by a grunting laugh.

"It's Malfoy," Harry said quietly, anger causing his voice to tremble.

Ron nodded and added, "You'd think that putting his father in Azkaban would humble him a bit."

"Not this git," Harry stated grimly. "Come on."

They walked into the Great Hall where lunch had already been finished and found Malfoy standing in a corner with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. In front of Malfoy, with a look on her face that suggested she was close to tears, was a very short, very familiar brown-haired girl.

"Want your precious necklace back?" Malfoy said, taunting her by lowering the necklace before yanking it back up again.

"Stop calling it a necklace!" she said, her frustration obvious in her voice.

"Stop calling it a necklace," Malfoy repeated to Crabbe and Goyle as though it was some hilarious joke. "Well what would you call it?" he mockingly asked, facing her once again.

"It's a pendant," she said defiantly.

Malfoy laughed, "As if there's a difference."

"There is too a difference!" she said, her tone of voice once again showing her frustration.

"Oh, and why don't you tell me what that difference is?" said Malfoy, giving her an incredulous smile as though she was saying the moon was made of green cheese.

"Necklaces are pieces of metal. Pendants are magical."

"You couldn't recognize magic ifyou were enveloped in a curse, you filthy Mudblood, " he said, half-hissing.

Harry started striding over toward where Malfoy was standing, his wand out. He couldn't stand Malfoy's smug voice a second longer. "Malfoy, you better give that back!" he yelled halfway across the Great Hall.

"Oh really, Potter? And what makes you think you have any say in it?"

"Because I'll curse you into next week if you don't!" Harry exclaimed pointing his wand at Malfoy. Malfoy continued nonchantly twirling the pendant around his finger. The chain was gold and at the end there was a small bottle that held a pulsing green substance, visible only between the gold vines entwining the container.

"And what if I—_accidentally_--" (here Malfoy let the pendant slip from his fingers a bit) "drop it on the ground? What'll you do then? Reparo wouldn't fix it entirely and something this _fragile_ would undoubtedly shatter against such _hard_ stone floors."

Harry debated. If he attacked Malfoy quickly enough chances were he wouldn't be able to drop it fast enough. But what if he accidentally let go of it? He couldn't risk it, it seemed to be precious to the girl. Harry was about to open his mouth to make some threatening comment when, to his gratefulness, a teacher (who, also thankfully, wasn't Snape) appeared.

"Does there seem to be a problem, Mr. Malfoy?" inquired Professor Sprout as she walked over to them. Harry noticed she was wearing very thick gloves, no doubt to combat the coldness in the greenhouses.

Malfoy scowled and hesitated, seemingly deciding what he could say while maintaining the "Malfoy" dignity. He ended up silently dropping the pendant into the girl's outstretched hands before walking away, saying "No, no problem here Professor Sprout."

Professor sprout walked away once Malfoy left, presumably to return to the Greenhouses, and their young friend, whom they had just helped, offered her thanks to both of the older boys standing in front of her.

"Why don't we go back up to the common room?" Harry said, suddenly aware of how cold it was where they were.

She nodded in response and put her hands, along with her pendant, in her pocket. It suddenly struck Harry that he had never seen her wearing that pendant, but he decided it was probably because he wasn't very good at observing that type of thing.

After what seemed like an infinite stretch of time, all three of them arrived at the common room and Harry felt a smile form on his face at how warm it was compared to the Great Hall.

"Where's Hermione?" the short girl to his right asked him.

"I'm over here," the teenager in question replied, sitting up.

She walked over to Hermione, who currently had a rather large book on her lap, and asked if she could help her with her pendant.

"How?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, I just can't do the clasp by myself."

Hermione nodded and helped the young girl in front of her with the pendant's clasp. Afterwards, Harry noticed, she tucked the pendant in her robes, making it impossible to notice.

"Where'd you get that?" Hermione casually asked.

"Oh, my uncle gave it to me."

Harry walked over to listen to more of the conversation. "Lupin gave that to you?"

She looked slightly confused for a moment before she realized what Harry was talking about and replied. "Oh, no, different uncle. Uncle Adoni," she said, fingering the pendant even though it was tucked in her robes.

"Is it magical?" Hermione asked, presumably having noticed that the liquid inside it was pulsing.

The young girl proudly nodded. "My uncle was magical, too. The one that gave it to me, that is. I have two uncles."

"Including Lupin?" Ron asked, slightly suspiciously.

"I mean on my dad's side." She looked slightly nervous. Or maybe it was just annoyance, Harry couldn't tell.

"Well, it's a very pretty shade of green," Hermione said commenting on the lime green color of the liquid in the pendant in the hopes to get away from the topic of her questionable family.

"Thanks," she said, turning away from Ron and to Hermione. "It used to be a different color," she offered.

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, blue and red swirled together, kind of like diagonal stripes. It'd glow sometimes, too. Still does. "

"Why'd it change?" Hermione inquired again. Harry could see she was interested in the magical artifact.

She thought for a moment. "I don't know. I remember when it changed, or rather, when it was different."

"When?"

"When I was, I mean, when I came to stay with Lupin and you guys at that house, Grimmauld Place."

"Maybe it changed because of the change in environment or living quarters?" Hermione suggested.

The young girl shrugged. "I really don't know why. But it looks pretty both ways."

"Do you know what it does?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"When my uncle gave it to me, he said it was to protect me and remind me that I'll always be loved by someone, but I haven't seen it do anything specific if that's what you mean."

Hermione nodded. "Hey, do you think you could write your uncle and ask where he got it? It seems really interesting," she added.

The young girls face suddenly became very blank. "That might be a bit hard," she replied harshly.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, sensing she had stumbled into dangerous waters.

"He's been dead for four years," she replied equally coldly.

"O-Oh. I'm sorry," Hermione said, not looking at the young girl's deep brown eyes.

"It's dangerous to be a muggle-born wizard," she coldly stated before climbing the stairs to her dormitory.

* * *

A/N: Well, at least this chapter is slightly longer. Reviews are always appreciated. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does, and if you think I'm her, you're nuts.

Review Responses:

**insane-penguin101: **Yay! Review:gives you a cookie: I try to update every week so the next chapter should be up by next Saturday or Sunday.


	10. Odd Relatives

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Odd Relatives**

The young Gryffindorsat on her crimson-sheeted bed and started picking off tiny pieces of lint. She supposed she ought to have been a bit nicer to Hermione but she didn't really like thinking about her uncle. The last time she'd seen him was when she was five, but she still remembered him well. He had light, reddish-brown hair and was slightly balding at 39. She remembered that whenever she saw him he was always wearing the exact same outfit: a pair of ironed khaki pants and a white button-down shirt. When she was even younger she had thought that his entire closet was filled with matching outfits like that. He had a rather tall and lanky figure, even taller then her father, and warm brown eyes that always looked like he was smiling. Somehow she had always known something was…different about him. Call it an aura thing. Once she had shown signs of her magic, at about 4 her father told her, he had started showing her tricks. Her favorite was when he took a tea cup and turned it into a snail. She'd always try to keep the snail as a pet, feeding it lettuce and dripping water into the container she kept it in, but it never lasted long. Once, when performing the spell, he had slipped and the snail had had the most beautiful shell, the exact same pattern as on the tea cup it had came from. Every time her Uncle Adoni came over she begged him to show her the magic tea cup/snail trick. Her father always joked that soon there would be no tea cups left for them to drink tea from.

He had given her the pendant she was currently wearing on her fifth birthday. It had come in a small dark blue box and she remembered instantly thinking how beautiful, how fragile it was. Even her five-year old mind had been able to grasp that this was something to be careful with.

"_Is it magical?" her father asked, looking at it suspiciously._

_Uncle Adoni looked away. "Well, yes, but not obviously so. And if she tucks it in her shirt it won't be noticeable. Shrinking charm," he added. _

"_What's it do?" I hear my five-year old's voice._

"_It protects you and it shall hopefully always be a reminder that someone--" here he had touched my nose and I had giggled "will always love you." _

"_Thank you, Uncle Adoni," I had said, hugging him. "Will you help me put it on?"_

"_Sure," he said clasping the long necklace around my small neck._

_My father still looked hesitant. "I don't know, Adoni…it's like broadcasting magic to the whole world, and…that's not exactly a good idea."  
_

"_Don't worry, look, even now you can't see it."_

"_Even so…"_

"_No one's going to go around checking people's necklaces. Well, this is really more of a pendant, but even so."_

"_I suppose…but d'you really think it's safe for her to wear?"  
_

"_I wouldn't have given to her if I didn't think so."_

"_Will it really protect her?"_

"_That's what the person said. I'm not really sure how it works, though."_

"_Do you like it?" Daddy said, directing his attention to me._

_I nodded, a smile on my face. And you really couldn't see it when it was hidden beneath my clothing. _

_Daddy smiled back and I vaguely remembered, somehow, that he had smiled more before Mommy had left. But those were the half formed memories of a child, and somehow I wasn't even sure if they were anything more than mere dreams I'd had, they seemed so distant. _

_A year later, at my sixth birthday party, Daddy smiled even less. It was just us now. His other brother, Uncle Geordi, I think his name was, had long stopped associating with us. I had only a very vague memory of a rather large man who smelled of cigars and had a small mustache. I had never met my Grandparents either, or rather, I had only seen them once, when I was a year old. And I somehow I knew without asking that my favorite uncle, my only uncle really, would not be coming. I think at that age, age six, I was still a bit too young to fully understand what had happened to my Uncle Adoni. I knew it had something to do with the evening my father cried and cried, and somehow I knew I wouldn't be seeing him at my sixth birthday party. I don't think I grasped the **forever**_ _part, though, the forever that I would never again see that kindly smiling face except in my dreams. I'm still not sure if I really understand the concept of forever. But I know what death is now, oh do I know what death is. I didn't go to Uncle Adoni's funeral; I don't think he even had one. _

_Once I turned six, Daddy started home schooling me. He taught me to read first so when he was at work I could read short stories he would buy or write for me. I never really thought about why I wasn't at a school with other children, I just knew I wasn't. I also never really understood why I didn't have a mother anymore, I just knew she had left me and she wasn't planning on coming back. I thought it had something to do with Uncle Adoni, she'd never really liked him, and something to do with that window I broke when I was mad. I hadn't actually touched the window, and I hadn't thrown anything threw it, either. All I knew was that somehow it had broken and that had made me different, a different which made Uncle Adoni's eyes sparkle as he showed me wonderful magic tricks, far greater than the old "coin behind the ear."_

Another Gryffindor first year looked up. She thought she had heard the sound of someone crying. She shrugged and continued to read her magazine before deciding to go the common room to say hello to her friends.

* * *

A/N: Okay, I know this chapter is a bit different (fine, really different) and I'd really like to hear your opinions on it (but flames still aren't appreciated). The next chapter should be back to the normal style, I just wanted to give you a glimpse into—_part_—of her mind. Oh, and in case it isn't obvious, the italics are her thoughts in the first person so "I" is our mysterious friend. 

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

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Kuramakicksass: Thanks for the review! I hope we can get in contact with each other soon and I'd go on forever here but this isn't the best place for me to talk (obviously). I promise my next e-mail will be long though :-)


	11. The First Attack

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**The First Attack**

When she woke up the next morning, a Saturday thankfully, she saw that her brown eyes were slightly red-rimmed and that she was still dressed in her school robes. She guessed that she had fallen asleep crying, a correct guess. All of the first years she shared her dorm with had already left and she wondered what time it was. _Not too late, actually,_ she thought. _Only about 8:30. Guess it's because I fell asleep early that I woke up so early._ She slowly changed into new robes and glanced out the frost covered window. It was still cold but she had been too disoriented this morning to notice. When she down to the Great Hall she found it was oddly quiet and instead there were hushed, intense whispers going across the various house tables. She found a seat next to Hermione and Ron (Harry wasn't up yet, she guessed) and asked what had happened in a hushed whisper. Hermione looked far more pale than usual and Ron's freckles stood out shockingly on his face. In response, Hermione handed her _The_ _Daily Prophet._ She felt her breathing become harder. No. No It wasn't possible. Not here, not _now_. She had thought she would be safe. _Safe…_ the word blew away from her. She would never be safe. She would never be safe. The thought hit her like a hard, iron bludger. She could never be safe.

Hermione let out a scream when the small first year next to her fainted.

* * *

Harry was slightly surprised when he opened his eyes to see Hermione hovering over his bed.

"Boys dorm," he murmured to himself before turning over.

"Harry! Get up!"

"I thought it was a Saturday," he said, still half-asleep.

"Our friend fainted and she's in the hospital wing."

"Ron?" Harry asked, his mind still too asleep to understand much of anything.

(From the other side of the room Ron let out an unheard "Hey!")

"No, the first year that showed up at Grimmauld Place, remember her?" Hermione added the last part sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, waking up a bit more. "Let me get dressed at least," he said, face in his pillow.

"Well, hurry up," she said, hands on her hips.

"That requires _you _getting OUT," Harry replied rather irritably, throwing his pillow at her as she half-walked half-ran out.

* * *

Harry and his two friends walked down the stairs to the infirmary. When the trio entered the door they found Madam Pomfrey giving the first year Gryffindor a potion.

"Is she alright?" Hermione asked the nurse.

"She'll be fine, don't worry, but I'd like to keep her here for about half a day, to make sure she's alright."

Hermione nodded. "Do you want me to bring you some school work or something?" she asked the brown-haired girl who was currently sitting up in bed.

The young girl nodded excitedly.

After they had returned to the Gryffindor tower and given the student her homework they proceeded in walking to the Great Hall.

"So why'd she faint?" asked Harry, now that they had a relatively free moment.

"Oh. I think it was because of the article in today's _Daily Prophet_."

Harry frowned and noticed Hermione became paler just mentioning it. "What—what did the article say?"

Hermione pulled the newspaper and handed it to Harry, who noticed that Hermione's eyes were wet.

_5 October 1996— _

_Yesterday night, at approximately 10:30 PM, two much respected members of the magical community were murdered in their own home, which currently lies in ruins. They were Mr. and Mrs. Clovis, an elderly couple who lived quietly in their house on Painsthorpe Road. Carmine Clovis, an expert on defending oneself against dark creatures, has written several books on that subject and also taught at Hogwarts as a substitute professor. …_

Harry skimmed forward a bit in the article and saw the one thing that he had been expecting to see in that article ever since he had seen the photograph on the front page, the photograph which showed a giant, glittering skull with a snake protruding from the mouth.

…_Both Mr. and Mrs. Clovis were Muggle-born…_

Harry swallowed and gave the newspaper back to Hermione. For the first time it really struck Harry that the second war had begun. "So," Harry stated, his voice surprisingly cracked.

"Yeah," Hermione said, now just pale.

"But why'd she faint?" Ron started.

"Maybe she lost family to them before or something," Hermione quietly said.

"It still seems…odd," Ron stated, but passively, obviously not feeling like aggravating Hermione.

"Let's go to the common room and…play a game of chess…or something…" Harry uncertainly stated. He just wanted to move. He couldn't bear just _standing_ there in that cold, stony hallway.

Hermione wordlessly nodded and Ron put her arm around her in a comforting way. Harry was slightly surprised she didn't push him away, but he supposed she wanted comfort. _After all, her family's in the most danger,_ Harry reminded himself.

They soon found the Fat Lady's portrait and entered the falsely warm common room. It was quiet except for a few whispered conversations. Harry doubt any of them had known the Clovises personally but it certainly didn't feel like a day where they should be allowed to be happy. Sighing, Harry decided to go up to his room; he didn't feel like being with other people right now. Harry climbed up the red carpeted stairs to the 6th years' dorm and sat down on his made bed. It had happened. Voldemort had made his first attack. _And so many more would die_, Harry thought, unbidden. A black and white shape seemed to be twinkling at him from across the room. Harry sighed and stood up, grabbing one of his roommate's newspapers. The symbol of so much death and destruction looked up at him, currently deceptively peaceful as only ink on a thin piece of graying paper. He glanced down at the article again, reading the first few sentences…._Yesterday night, at approximately 10:30 PM, two much respected members of the magical community were murdered in their own home, which currently lies in ruins. They were Mr. and Mrs. Clovis, an elderly couple who lived quietly in their house on Painsthorpe Road.… _They hadn't deserved to die. No one who was dying did, it was the people who were killing them that deserved to die. Painfully, his thoughts leapt back to Sirius and in his mind's eye he saw Bellatrix Lestrange laughing as her cousin forever disappeared through that forever restless curtain. But as he was looking at the article, suddenly a word stood out to him, painfully familiar but just out of reach of his memory. _Painsthorpe Road…_did he know someone who lived there? Something told him no, instead he seemed to remember it written on a clean white sheet of paper in a neat cursive. But what sheet? Harry started digging through his trunk, his curiosity burning at him.

* * *

Half an hour later, Harry had managed to make quite a mess of all of his school papers without any success in finding the mysterious Painsthorpe. Sighing, he pulled his invisibility cloak out to continue his search and was slightly surprised when a sheet fluttered to the ground. Frowning, Harry tried to remember what it could be. He turned it over and was greeted by quite a few numbers, in columns. _Oh, this is the sheet we stole from Sullivan's office,_ he thought. Truthfully, he had totally forgotten about it when he knew he should have been trying to decode it. But there, in that neat cursive handwriting which suddenly seemed so familiar, under the column labeled "A," was the word _Painsthorpe._

* * *

A/N: Hmm, medium length chapter. And just so you know Painsthorpe Road is the name of a real street somewhere, I got it off some website a while ago. Well, anyway, reviews are always appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

Review Responses: 

**Knight of the Sun: **I'm glad you thought the chapter with her thoughts didn't turn out too weird. Here's another chapter (the one you beta-read!) :-)

**Harry-Potter-fan01:** Thanks for reviewing my story! Sorry this update took a while, hopefully the next one will come sooner.


	12. Which Weasley?

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Which Weasley**

Harry stared blankly at the sheet of paper. Had Sullivan simply known them as friends or was it something more sinister that Harry wouldn't allow his mind drift to? "A" was the single letter marking that column and, looking at the five numbers in front of Painsthorpe, he realized it stood for address. There were three other columns and each one held a few numbers—the first 4-10, the second 22:30, and the fourth (the Address was the third column) simply said "2." Harry frowned at the numbers. Was the second one a ratio?

His mind struggled back to a stuffy muggle classroom where his 5th grade teacher had written the word "ratio" on the word and was asking for a definition. There were…_three ways to express a ratio_, he mouthed to himself. _As a fraction, using the word "to" or…yes, a colon. So it could be a ratio._ _Or a time_, he thought to himself, wondering why his mind hadn't thought of that first. _22:30, so that'd be 10:30 at night if it was a time._ He looked at the acronym labeling the column. _TOA. _Harry noted its similarity to the first acronym, _DOA._ The third acronym, well it hardly counted as an acronym, more a letter, was _A _but he had already figured that one out, Address. The fourth column, the one with just a single number, was labeled _NOEP_.

Harry looked at the next row and saw that in the column labeled _NOEP_ there was a question mark with a number 4 in parenthesis. The number in the first column was 31-10 and the time in the second column was 23:30, 11:30 at night.

Harry moved his attention to the first column and frowned slightly, concentrating. _31-10, 31-10. _And then it struck him was such forcefulness he was surprised he didn't fall over. _31-10, the 31st of October. So it was a date; the D probably stood for Date and the O for of, or another word if "of" was not normally represented in acronyms. And that meant, in the next column, the T must stand for Time! Time of…something._ He didn't know what the A stood for in either one, but he didn't really care. Harry glanced at the last column. _NOEP _and a single number in almost every row…he had no idea what that could stand for. The messy-haired boy stretched. "Well, at least I got some stuff," he quietly spoke to himself, returning the sheet to its hiding place in the invisibility cloak before deciding to join his friends.

* * *

A few days had passed and school had resumed with the teachers not relenting on their endless stream of homework. The Boy-Who-Lived sighed and ran a hand through his inky black hair. He had to read 30 pages for transfiguration homework today and he was still on page 1. Ron, on the other side of the room, also seemed to be having trouble concentrating. He was shaking his wand in a way that Harry recognized as something Muggles did to their pencils to make it look like the pencil was bending. "Blimey," Ron quietly said to himself, evidently fascinated by this simple trick, if his wide eyes were any indication.

Harry shook his headat Ron's antics and looked back down to his book. Why did the pages have to be so big? And with so many words? The messy-haired boy looked around, desperately wanting some distraction so he wouldn't have to do his reading, at least not right now, anyway. Surprisingly enough, a distraction did come, this time in the form of Ginny Weasley bursting through the door to the common room, heavily panting.

"Whoa! Ginny, what happened?" her older brother asked, sitting up and setting down his wand.

"Hex…teacher…ran…" she said before collapsing onto one of the couches. She swallowed, and after a brief moment tried again. "Malfoy…was heckling some second years….Got mad, hexed him….saw some teacher, though….Didn't want to get caught so I ran up here to hide," Ginny finished, her breathing becoming slightly more calm.

"Do you know which teacher?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Merlin, I think it might've been Snape, but I sure hope not."

Lupin's niece walked quietly in through the portrait. Harry waved hello and Ginny sat up to see who it was before lying back down again. "Oh, hello."

She waved in response before walking over to Hermione. "I think McGonagall wants to see you," she told the bushy haired girl.

Hermione frowned slightly, obviously trying to think of reasons McGonagall would want to see her. "Hmm, well, alright," she said standing up and walking out of the portrait hole.

The brown haired year took her seat and looked over to Ginny. "What happened?"

"Hexed Malfoy but I think a teacher saw me so I'm hiding up here," the red-haired girl stated, giving the briefer version.

"Which hex?" Ron asked eagerly, obviously very proud of his little sister.

"Bat bogey," she said, smiling evilly.

"Nice," her older brother replied, sharing the smile.

Harry laughed slightly, smiling. He wondered what it would have been like to have a sibling; after all, Dudley hardly counted.

Hermione appeared again, passing through the portrait hole with a slight confused frown on her face. "McGonagall said she didn't want to see me; she wanted to talk with Ginny."

At this point Ginny responded with a word that made the first-year Gryffindor's eyes open wide. The fifth year fell back onto the coach from her upward position after this exclamation.

The first-year Gryffindor looked towards Ginny. "Oh, is your last name Weasley, too?"

"What do you mean 'too'? Your last name isn't Weasley," she said with a slight attitude, looking towards the brown haired girl.

"Oh no, not me, I meant Hermione."

Awkward silence passed between them as Harry noticed his bushy-haired friend had a slight pink tinge to her cheeks that was not normally there. "Um, my last name's not Weasley," she finally stated, looking at her shoes as though they were the most interesting thing in the world. Well, except for her books, of course.

"It isn't?" the first year replied, genuinely confused.

"No, it's Granger," she said in an embarrassed manner. For whom she was embarrassed Harry couldn't tell: was it for herself or Ron, whose ears had turned an extraordinary shade of red?

"Oh," the young brown-haired girl seemed to be thinking. "Oh well," she said in a cheery voice, apparently oblivious to the fact she had seriously embarrassed both Ron and Hermione with one innocent sentence. "My mistake, McGonagall wants to see you, Miss _Ginny_ Weasley."

"Are you sure it's me?" Ginny spoke, obviously dreading the answer as well as the reprimand she was about to receive.

"One Miss Weasley," her friend said, still very energetic.

"Arrgh," spoke Ginny, obviously hoping to procrastinate from whatever her punishment would be.

* * *

A/N: My apologies for this chapter being kind of short, but please review anyway. (Please?)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the world he resides in.

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No reviews for previous chapter.


	13. Halloween

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Halloween**

"Double potions? With the Slytherins? AGAIN!"

"Certainly seems that way, Ron," the Boy-Who-Lived spoke, an expression of slight disgust on his face.

"Why do they insist on ruining Halloween like this?" the red-haired boy rhetorically asked. Harry pushed the frame of his glasses up and shrugged before continuing his meal. "Just the thing to ruin my lunch," Ron said before setting down his schedule and eating just as voraciously as he had before.

Hermione glanced at Ron shoveling food onto his plate and rolled her eyes. _Boys, _she exasperatedly thought. "Well, I'm going to start walking towards the dungeons. Last thing I want to do is tick off Snape in a day where he'll have twice as long to take revenge."

"She has a point," Ron said gesturing with his fork.

"Yeah," Harry said, pausing from his eating for a moment.

"Hey, Hermione! Wait for me!" Ron said, clambering out of his seat and running towards the bushy-haired girl.

"Augh, wait, don't leave me behind!" Harry said, realizing that of their trio he would be the only one late to potions, if it was indeed late enough for that to happen.

Soon the three of them were walking speedily to the dungeon where potions was held.

"Hey, where was, um, what's-her-name today?" Ron asked Hermione en route.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Who?" she asked in slight disbelief.

"Um," Ron's ears had a slight pink tinge to them now. "You know, that, that girl. Really short, brown hair. Been with us since Grimmauld Place."

"You _don't_ know her name?" Hermione asked with a bit of anger seeping into her tone.

"I was, um," Harry noticed that Ron's ears were turning redder. "She never told me her name!" he finally exclaimed.

"Yes she did!"

"No she didn't!"

"How do I know it then? Huh?"

Ron stammered. "How should I know? You know everything! Of course you know her name!"

Hermione looked rather taken aback but Harry knew it was not because she was insulted, but rather because she was flattered at being told she knew everything (even if she knew it wasn't true; there were still quite a few books she still had to get her hands on).

"Well," Hermione started, actually at a lose for words. "Try asking her what her name is next time," she finally stated, regaining her composure.

Ron nodded and knew that she didn't want to fight anymore. "Alright, I'll try that," he stated quietly.

"Where should we sit?" Harry asked upon their arrival at the potions classroom. Normally they sat in the middle as a compromise between Harry and Ron wanting to sit in the very back and Hermione wanting to sit in the very front but Harry always asked the question anyway.

"Middle," Ron said.

"Middle," Hermione agreed.

They had just taken their seats when Snape swept in, cloak billowing menacingly as always. The class stopped its quiet murmuring instantly. "Today we are going to be brewing a very complicated potion that can become deadly with the slightest mistake." Here Neville released a high-pitched squeak which caused Snape to glare at him, terrifying the poor Gryffindor more. "It is the weakest of the truth serums but it can still be quite effective if brewed correctly. If someone," Snape swept his eyes around the class, "brews this potion incorrectly or is having behavioral issues they will be forced to sample it in front of the class. Happy brewing." Snape tapped his wand on a black board and instructions appeared.

"Wow," Hermione whispered. "Look at everything this requires," she trailed off, scanning the list.

Harry looked at his empty cauldron and couldn't help but feel slightly sick. He knew he'd have to sample the potion and the idea of doing that in front of all his classmates wasn't very appealing.

* * *

One hour later, Harry wasn't feeling any better. He wasn't sure whether he'd stirred it three times or four times after he'd added the aconite and his potion was a slightly different shade of teal than Hermione's. But whatever Harry's problems were, he always knew Neville would have worse ones, although this time Neville seemed to be doing better than usual. His potion was only green instead of teal, but that didn't seem to be close enough. "You're testing your truth serum at the end of class, Longbottom," the malevolent potions teacher spoke, leaving Neville looking at his potion with the utmost horror.

Harry glanced nervously at his potion and hoped Snape wouldn't exam it.

* * *

"Time's up, class. Bottle a small amount of your potion but don't vanish the contents of your cauldron yet. And don't touch your potion, Longbottom." Neville nervously backed away from his cauldron. In the past hour two more people (both Gryffindors, of course) had forcibly joined Neville in having to sample their potion. Lavender, for talking to Parvati, and Harry because, officially, his potion was the wrong _shade_ of teal.

"Now, class, I want to show you what happens if you don't pay attention to the instructions," Snape said, standing by Neville's potion. Using a wooden ladle, Snape scooped up part of the green potion and held it in the air for a few moments while the class watched.

"What are we waiti—" Ron started before he turned in shock to see what had happened. The green potion had completely dissolved the ladle and was now making sizzling sounds on the dungeon floor, as if it was trying to eat through that too.

"And _that_," Snape said, vanishing the rest of Neville's potion, "is why you can't make stupid mistakes." The whole class looked with wide eyes and Neville seemed terrified to have brewed such an acidic potion. "Whose next to try their potion? Ah, yes, Potter." Harry was not particularly eager about this, especially considering how horribly Neville's had gone wrong. "Let's see if _this_ potion is brewed correctly," Snape said while the Slytherins laughed.

Harry grabbed the cup and looked at it. It seemed rather innocent, but one never knew. Even if it was brewed correctly it was still a truth serum, a problem within itself.

"Ah, Professor Snape, could I speak with you?"

The whole class looked towards the open door. "What is it, Sullivan," Snape answered rather irritably. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher entered the classroom and walked towards Snape.

"I have to speak with you, in private," Sullivan barely clarified.

"Now isn't the best time," Snape spoke, obviously rather annoyed at having his class interrupted.

"It'll be fast," the other professor promised.

"Can it wait?" the potions professor asked.

"No."

"Fine. Potter, don't drink your potion until I get back."

With the click of the door Harry released a huge breath of air and started laughing. "That was close!" he said to his friends.

"Well you'll still have to take the potion," Hermione reproachfully stated. "Snape isn't going to let you get out of it."

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied, "But I'll take this procrastination of events! Say, how long until class ends? If Sullivan takes too long then maybe I can get out of taking the potion entirely."

Ron shrugged. "I hope it's soon though; I've been in this classroom long enough."

"Agreed," Harry said, stretching. "I should thank Sullivan for getting me out of this, even if only temporarily."

Ron laughed. "This event with everything else makes him one of the best DADA teachers yet!"

Harry smiled. "I still think Lupin was the best professor we've had yet."

"Oh, wow, I'd kinda forgotten about that. It seems so long ago. Time flies, huh?" Harry's red-haired friend philosophized.

"Yeah. Say, where's everyone going?" Harry asked, realizing people were walking out of the door.

The girl closest, Parvati, shrugged and replied. "Class is officially over. We're not waiting for Snape but if you want to, be my guest."

"Get out of potions without taking my potion? I'll take that opportunity!" Harry said, smiling and leaping out of his seat.

"But what if we get in trouble?" Hermione asked, also collecting her belongings.

"Don't worry. We won't," Ron replied, leading the way to the door.

The trio of friends exited the classroom and couldn't help but smile. "Hey, you want to run?" Harry asked, rather happy and energetic now.

"I'll take you on!" Ron yelled, already running.

"Wait for me!" Hermione said, running after them but also smiling.

Five minutes later the trio had reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "That was fun," Harry said, smiling and panting heavily.

"It's hard to run up all these stairs, though," Ron added.

"Especially with all these books," Hermione finished.

Harry smiled towards his two friends. These events were the type of thing that helped take the weight of the world off his shoulders. It was hard to think about Voldemort when you were busy having fun.

"Pumpkin pie," Harry stated the password and entered the tower, Ron and Hermione close behind him.

"Hello, Harry," their first-year friend spoke.

"Oh, hi. Where were you at lunch today?" he inquired of the brown-haired girl.

"I was busy," she stated rather briskly. It was at this point Harry realized something was wrong. It looked like she was trying to keep tears out of here eyes and in her right hand she was gripping a piece of paper so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

"Hey, are you okay?" the Boy-Who-Lived asked. "You…don't look so good," he finished.

"I'm fine. Do you know what today's date is?"

"The thirty-first of October," Harry slowly said. Why was she asking what the date was?

The young girl nodded before handing him the piece of paper clenched in her right hand. She looked deep into his eyes and spoke in a quiet, deliberate voice. "I want you to look at this tonight, long and hard. And then I want you to read the newspaper tomorrow morning," she paused and swallowed. "I want you to read the newspaper tomorrow morning and connect the two."

"Okay," Harry stated, not exactly sure what was happening.

The young girl nodded and turned away. Harry shrugged to his friends to assure them that he was lost as well.

That night, at the Halloween feast, they had great fun. They stayed up late listening to the band which had been hired and woke up late the next morning, content and sleepy. When Harry finally walked down to the Great Hall it was almost eleven and rather quiet. Sun was streaming through the windows and for once it was warm enough to not need a cloak. Harry reached the Gryffindor table and started happily eating before he saw the headline adorning the top of the Daily Prophet: 

30 KILLED IN DEATH EATER MASSACRE

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or his world.

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	14. Realization

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Realization**

Harry felt sick to his stomach. Thirty. Thirty people murdered in cold-blood. He wanted to read the article but his eyes seemed unable to focus on the words. He wouldn't have been surprised if they slid off the page, the day seemed so surreal.

"Did you look at the sheet I gave you last night?"

Harry continued starting at, or rather through, the newspaper before he realized he was being addressed. He slowly glanced in the direction from where the voice had come from. She was standing there. _Everything seems so surreal,_ Harry thought. _Like I'm in a dream…_

"The newspaper," Harry feebly stated, waving it in the small, brown-haired girl's direction. She walked towards him and gently pushed the newspaper away from her without glancing at it.

"I know. I told you. Last night. Did you look at the sheet?" she asked again.

"No," Harry stated, but his mind was working. That was right. She had told him to look at the newspaper today. How had she known?

"Let's look at the sheet now," the first-year spoke.

Harry took a deep breath. He had to get a hold of himself. "Yeah, sure. I'm not hungry anymore," he told the girl. "Do you have it?" he added.

She nodded and patted her pocket, which made a crinkly noise. "Where can we go so we can talk privately?"

"An empty classroom's probably fine," Harry said. He wasn't too worried about people trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. Vaguely, he wondered where Ron and Hermione were. "We can talk here," he said, coming upon a classroom that looked like it had not been used recently.

"Alright," the young girl spoke, taking a seat and emptying her jacket's pockets. There was the piece of paper from before, in addition to an old newspaper clipping. "Tell me what you've figured out so far," she said unfolding the sheet that Harry recognized as the one they had stolen from Sullivan's office.

Harry looked at it and tried to recall what he had found out. "In the third column A stands for address. In the first column D stands for Date and in the second column T stands for time. The O's could stand for of or or."

She nodded. "No ideas on the fourth column?"

"None."

"Okay. I think there's a pattern, but I want to see if you can find it on your own. I brought the newspaper clipping from—from the other attack." She pushed forward a folded square of gray paper. "Compare the two articles to the chart and tell me what you think."

Harry frowned slightly as he took the newspaper clip. Why did she seem to know so much? He couldn't help but feel as if he was a marionette, being dragged along by some unknown force. Slowly he laid out the two newspapers article on either side of the sheet of paper. But what was he supposed to do? Compare them. How? Why did he feel like he was being used? He hated that feeling, as if he was simply someone else's pawn. And he didn't like Lupin's niece watching him so eagerly either.

_5 October 1996— _

_Yesterday night, at approximately 10:30 PM, two much respected members of the magical community were murdered in their own home, which currently lies in ruins. They were Mr. and Mrs. Clovis, an elderly couple who lived quietly in their house on Painsthorpe Road. Carmine Clovis, an expert on defending oneself against dark creatures, has written several books on that subject and also taught at Hogwarts as a substitute professor.…_

Harry looked at the article. He felt as if he was taking a test. "What exactly am I supposed to look for?" he irritably asked the young girl nearby him, who was currently swinging her feet.

The girl shrugged. "When it happened."

"It happened October fifth. Fourth," he corrected himself.

"Now look at the sheet," the first-year lead him.

Harry gave her a sideways look before glancing down at the sheet. It held four columns.

_DOA---TOA----------A-------------------------NOEP _

4-10---22:30---45193 Painsthorpe Road----2

31-10--23:30---6840 Aconite Avenue-----? (4)

11-11--10:45(VOID)--904 Milokai Boulevard---3

The sheet was full of numbers such as these but Harry only looked at the first three rows. "The first date is October fourth," he stated. "And it could be their address because they lived on Painsthorpe Road."

"What else?" she prodded.

"The time is the time mentioned in the article," Harry said slowly, not entirely sure what she was getting at.

"How many were there, in the first article?"

"Two…"

"It all fits, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"All of the numbers," the girl looked towards him sadly, "they match perfectly. The statistics of their death, right there. On that sheet."

Harry looked at the piece of paper and realized she was right. "But how was everything written down before it happened?"

She looked at him sadly. "Check the second article with the second row; those numbers match too, don't they? Except the victims were having a Halloween dinner so it wasn't known how many people were going to be there. Thirty were there. No survivors. There never are."

Harry looked at her. She seemed rather resigned to the idea. "How…how do you know this?" he asked.

"I looked at the sheet for a long, long, time. All that's left is to figure out what the acronyms stand for. But I think you have an inkling of an idea on most of them. I'll give you a hint, the O's stand for 'of' in all of them."

"Date of…time of…address…and something else," the Boy-Who-Lived spoke.

"What's in the last column?"

"The number of people who died."

"So if N is for number and P is for people…"

"Number of something People."

"Let's say the attacks hadn't happened yet. Then they wouldn't be dead yet, and it wouldn't be known for sure how many people were going to be there, just a guess, an estimate."

Harry glanced at the girl. "Number of estimated people?"

"Expected, actually, but you were close."

"How do you know this?" the messy-haired boy asked. He was becoming suspicious.

"I looked at the sheet for a long time," she lightly replied. "So what does the A stand for?"

"Address," Harry promptly answered.

"The other A's."

"Oh. I don't know."

"What happened at those numbers?"

Harry felt rather irritable about being led like this but at the same time he knew he wouldn't get it by himself. "It's when they were murdered. Killed."

"Attacked."

"Yeah, attacked."

"So what does it stand for?"

"Date of…Attack. Time of Attack."

"And this was in Sullivan's briefcase."

"Yeah, I know."

"So what does that say about him?"

"I don't know. Maybe he didn't know what it was, picked up somewhere."

"He knows what everything stands for, Harry."

"How do you know he knows?"

"I just do."

"Fine let's say he does know. I still don't understand what you're trying to show me."

"I'm trying to show you he's a Death Eater, Harry."

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world. 

A/N: The chart was a lot neater on word, but the format became a bit messier here, sorry.

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**lumiereal :** Thank you for reviewing! I appreciate you taking your time.


	15. Blocking the Truth

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Blocking the Truth**

"He—he's a Death Eater?" Harry stammered in disbelief.

The little girl in front of him nodded.

"But how is that possible? Dumbledore wouldn't allow a Death Eater to teach here!" The mental of image of Snape floated to Harry as a contradiction. "Unless they'd changed or something," he added. "Like—" Harry cut himself off.

"Like Snape," the girl finished.

"Yeah, exactly," Harry replied. "Wait," he spoke suddenly realizing what she had said. "How do you know about Snape?"

The girl's eyes became wide and she clapped her hand over her mouth. The resulting expression was one of the utmost terror that part of Harry could not help but feel pity for her. However, a much larger part of him felt great suspicion.

"How do you know about Snape?" Harry repeated to the terrified girl. "And how do you know so much about these Death Eaters?" The brown haired girl moved backwards, still the same look of fright upon her face. "Why aren't you answering me?" Harry asked, anger and suspicion seeping into his voice. "Answer me!"

"Obliviate!" the young girl shrieked, pointing her wand directly at Harry's heart.

* * *

_Where am I?_ Harry thought. _Some sort of classroom. Looks empty. But what am I doing here? Talking with someone, I think, but where are they, then? Maybe they left…but who was I talking with and about what? And why am I so forgetful all of a sudden? I can't even remember what I was doing a mere moment before. Now I remember! I was talking with Lupin's niece about that sheet we found. Here it is. What was she saying? Clarifying the acronyms, or something like that. I wonder where she went?_

* * *

Her feet pounded painfully against the hallway's tiles, causing an echo to bounce off the wall and strange looks to follow her. _Just a bit further to the owlery, I can't tire now, _she thought to herself while sprinting through the school. _I hope I didn't mess up the memory charm or the consequences of that may be even worse than me revealing that piece of information about Snape; I'd hate myself if I accidentally deleted a huge portion of Harry's memory. But at the same time I hope I didn't do it too weakly or he'll remember about Snape **and** he'll remember I tried to erase his memory and then I could get in big trouble. I hope Lupin can fix whatever trouble I've caused._

* * *

Harry entered the Gryffindor tower and was greeted sorrowfully by one of his friends.

"I assume you saw the article, mate?" Ron inquired. "Hermione's still up in her dorm room. I feel really bad for her; the article says a really large percentage of the people in the attack were Muggle-born. This must be really tough for her."

Harry nodded as he recalled the article from that morning. "Has she been down here at all?"

"Earlier in the morning, I think, but whenever it was I missed her. She had to have seen the article somehow." Ron stared gloomily at his shoes.

"Have you seen Lupin's niece?" Harry asked, still trying to piece together that inexplicable void in his memory.

Ron shook his head. "I forgot, she's Muggle-born, too. Is she still up in her dorm?"

"I don't know. I was talking with her recently but now I can't find her," Harry explained.

"Oh, really? Then I don't know where she is. What was her reaction to the article?"

"She seemed…oddly okay, considering how close to home it must be."

"Oh, because she's Muggle-born?"

"Yeah, and I got the impression her uncle was killed for being a Muggle a few years ago." Harry frowned slightly. "One would think we'd have heard about a hate crime against Muggles in the newspaper, but I guess not."

Ron shrugged. "You and Hermione are way more observant than I am." He gave a slight, bitter laugh. "I still don't know her name and here you're remembering stuff about her family."

Taking a seat near Ron, the Boy-Who-Lived gave a slight smile, "Don't worry, I don't know her name right now, either."

"Good to know I'll always have someone as unobservant as me around," the red-haired boy said with a slight laugh. "Speak of the devil," he added upon her appearance at the portrait.

"Hi, Harry," she said quietly. "H-How are you?" the young girl added nervously. "I mean, um, any new pieces of information in your head since this morning?"

"No," Harry said, oblivious to whatever she was trying to get at. "But you already saw the article, right?"

"Oh, right, that thing. Well, um, look at the sheet I gave you, I would best be, um, off. To my room. Something there I need and all," she trailed off before dashing up the stairs to her dormitory.

Both of the two friends' eyes followed her route. "She's awfully quirky. I mean perky. Considering everything that happened today," Harry explained.

"Yeah," Ron said, looking at where she had been a moment before. "She's acting awfully oddly. I mean, she's Muggle-born so why is she all zip-a-dee-doo-dah today? The only person I expect to have a spring in their step today is Malfoy," Ron finished, angrily smashing his fist onto the arm of his chair, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry nodded before Ron continued in a quieter tone of voice, "Say, do you want to do some investigating?"

"What do you mean?" asked the messy-haired boy.

"We try and find out more about her, like where she came from, because Hermione's plan of making friends hasn't been working," Ron explained.

"How else can we get information?"

"I'll start by writing to my mum to find out what the official story is. Then I'll write Fred and George because chances are they'll be willing to reveal more. After that we can go from there."

Harry nodded. "Okay we can try that, but we shouldn't snoop around too much," he added uncharacteristically.

* * *

The next day the mail came in a frenzy of feathers and owls, as usual. Harry looked upwards but doubted the response to Ron's questions would be amongst the different colors. A few seats away from the two boys sat their first-year Gryffindor friend, nervously opening a letter from Lupin. The brown-haired girl breathed a sigh of relief as she read the quickly scrawled note.

_Don't worry about whether the memory charm holds or not. If Harry didn't confront you on your attempt it means he doesn't remember that part and whether or not he remembers you stating that piece of information about Snape doesn't really matter—Harry already knew that. _

_But if he hadn't known then yes, that would've been the perfect time to use a memory charm. _

_Take Care,_

_Remus Lupin_

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

A/N: I'm not too happy with this chapter but I'm posting it anyway. I don't know how many chapters there are left but the story's closer to its end than it was before. (I mean, obviously…) Anyway, please review.

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**lumiereal: **lol, I'll chose to ignore the first part of that review :sticks fingers in ears and starts humming loudly before realizing reviews are written, not spoken: ANYway…what do you think about how much she knows NOW?


	16. Reporting the Suspected

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Reporting the Suspected**

"Harry, I got the letter," a certain red-haired boy yelled, walking up the stairs to Gryffindor tower.

"Let's see," he said rather casually, mind-half busy with his attempt at finding that extra potion's essay amongst his disorganized belongings.

Ron ripped open one of the two envelopes in his hand. "This one's from my mum," he explained, "the other one is from Fred and George." Harry nodded as they both started reading the first letter.

_Dear Ron, _

_I could have sworn I already explained to you about her situation, but perhaps not. She is Muggle-born, as you already know, and with the unset of the Second War her parents have become fearful for her safety. Because of this she is temporarily staying with Lupin, one of her relatives, during the breaks while attending Hogwarts during the school year. _

_So how has my dear Ron been doing at school? Staying out of trouble?_

_Love,_

_Mum_

"But then why didn't Lupin recognize her?" Ron whispered after they had both finished reading the letter. "Let's see what Fred and George say."

_Ron—_

_To think our dear little brother is still attending Hogwarts! It seems ages ago we set foot in that school. We must visit sometime, perhaps bringing merchandise for testing…_

_Anyway, to answer your question, we really don't know. That's right. Sorry Ron, but we're not officially in the Order of the Phoenix yet, meaning they can still keep stuff from us. The official story is she's staying with Lupin because she's Muggle-born and her parents are afraid for her, or something like that. We weren't there when she arrived, but we think that if this is true in anyway, it's more a variation of the truth. I suspect that if her parents are really that afraid for her then they're not Muggles. Our theory? Her parents are high on Who-Know-Who's hit list. And they're not just Muggles._

_Fred & George_

"There's a new idea," Ron said. "I hadn't thought of that, but it still wouldn't explain why she showed up so suddenly or why Lupin didn't recognize her."

Harry nodded. "So what should we do know?"

"I don't know," Ron said, looking rather confused. It took a few minutes before Harry realized this was the other boy's thinking expression. "I'll think about it," the red-haired boy stated, leaving for the common room.

"Okay," Harry said, still rummaging through his trunk. A brief while after his friend left Harry finally found the potions essay he had been looking for. Sitting down on his bed, he set the potions essay aside and pulled out the chart stolen from Sullivan's office. It was about time he held true to his word and finally looked at it.

* * *

She sat at the lake, feet submerged in the icy cold water. Not too many people were out today; the combination of the recent attack and the freezing-cold weather had done a good job of keeping people indoors. Perhaps normally, back in her old life that seemed worlds away, she wouldn't have had the courage to sit by herself after a massive Death-Eater attack, but for some reason, now everything was different. Fate had thrown her into extraordinary circumstances she still didn't fully understand yet. The result was that she was slowly becoming more daring. Not because she felt like fate was protecting her, or anything of the like, no, it was more because she was angry. Fate had thrown her into something she never asked to be part of. She was mad at fate and as a result had taken to tempting it.

But there was also another aspect. When one has a realistic dream they may become frustrated by not being able to tell what is real and what is fake, and thus do something drastic to see what is truth and what is lies. She was testing fate in this aspect, also. She was jumping over cliffs to see if she would wake up before she hit the bottom. And so far nothing had happened. She had neither been killed nor awoken and as a result was still in limbo. Falling, lost, and confused.

The wind blew past her ears, pulling on her long brown strands of hair and causing her robes to hug tightly. Ripples blew across the lake and the little girl continued to stare at them, watching how one ripple caused another, how every one affected the entire lake, first slowly but soon on a much larger scale until it had faded and disappeared entirely, not leaving a single trace of its existence.

* * *

Harry looked at his watch. Twelve o'clock. When he had asked Hermione where the first-year Gryffindor was it had been ten o'clock and she had replied the lake. Harry now stood outside Hogwarts and saw much to his surprise that the young girl was still there, standing rather poetically by the lake.

"Hi," he said, approaching her.

She turned around and meet his eyes for a moment, holding the gaze, before looking back towards the lake. "Hi."

"Erm—did I catch you at a bad time?" Harry asked, feeling rather awkward.

"No—just thinking."

"Anyway, um, I looked at that sheet. The one we got from Sullivan." The girl nodded for him to continue. "I think he might be a Death Eater," Harry said rather quietly considering they were seemingly the only ones outdoors.

The girl nodded and seemed to be considering he words. "I reached that conclusion, too. Have you told Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry swallowed. "I was going to tell you first, to ask what you thought, but I ran into Dumbledore on the way and I thought it would be better to tell him sooner than later."

"That was for the best," she stated. "You made a good decision. What did Professor Dumbledore say?"

"That he would investigate it."

"Good." The brown-haired girl continued to stare out at the lake. Harry looked at her for a moment, wondering what she could be thinking of, and turned around, back towards Hogwarts.

* * *

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Harry Potter. No, I don't own Hogwarts. No, I don't own Dumbledore. No, I don't own Ron. No, I don't own Hermione. Get the point? Good.

A/N: Not much to say here, except offer my apologies for this chapter being somewhat short. I'd also like to ask you to leave a review on your way out.

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	17. Winged Horses

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Winged Horses**

"I've got it!" Ron excitedly told his friend at breakfast the next morning.

"Got what?" Harry asked without much interest, still focused on his toast.

"We ask Hagrid," the other boy said quietly, leaning in closer so Harry could hear him over the noise of other people talking.

"What?" the messy-haired boy asked, now utterly lost as to what his friend was talking about.

"We ask Hagrid about—" here the red-haired boy jabbed his thumb towards the first-year Gryffindor who seemed to know too much.

"Oh," Harry said, finally understanding what Ron was talking about. "Okay, we can do it after classes today."

Ron laughed. "Assuming we survive potions. Something tells me Snape might still be mad from last time when the entire class left without his permission."

* * *

In the cold winter days that draped around Hogwarts like a suffocating blanket, the sun set earlier and earlier, severely limiting the amount of time Hogwarts students could spend outside after their classes. As Ron and Harry made their way to Hagrid's cabin they became aware of this fact, noticing that already the sun was partially hidden behind the Forbidden Forest.

"Hullo, Harry!" Hagrid called out as the two friends approached him.

"Hello, Hagrid," Harry replied, petting the thestrals Hagrid was currently feeding. "Thestrals," he briefly explained to a rather confused Ron who could not see the horse-like creatures.

"Been a while since I've seen you guys," Hagrid said brightly. "How have classes been?"

"Alright," Ron spoke, uneasily regarding the air where the thestral was standing. "Have you been showing some of your other classes thestrals?" he inquired of their presence.

"Nah," Hagrid said, fondly patting the beast. "You just happened to come around feeding time."

"Lucky us," Ron said in a slightly queasy undertone. Harry stepped on his foot as a reminder to the red-haired boy why they were here. "Oh, right!" Ron whispered to himself. "Oh, hey, we were wondering what the story is with Lupin's niece."

Harry hit himself on the forehead. Trust it to Ron to completely fail at the stealth approach. To the messy-haired boy's surprise Hagrid released a deep, booming laugh. "Exactly that, she's Lupin's niece. If you're looking for something exciting to investigate I'm afraid you're not going to find it with her."

Ron opened his mouth to say something else but Harry stepped forward and gently pushed his friend backwards to show that he was going to take over. "Oh, don't worry Hagrid, were not," Harry faked sincerity well. "We're just kind of curious why she's staying with Lupin when I've never heard Lupin mention her, or any siblings for that matter."

Hagrid shrugged. "Guess he and his brother aren't too close."

"So why is she staying at Grimmauld Place then?" Ron took control of the conversation again as Harry stepped backwards.

The half-giant paused in his feeding of the thestrals. "You don't have to be close to your family to trust them," he replied after a slight pause.

"But why even bother to send her to Grimmauld Place if she was just going to start Hogwarts in the fall?" Ron continued his line of questioning.

"I don't know, why don't you ask her?" Hagrid replied, seemingly becoming slightly annoyed.

"Huh?" the red-haired boy replied not-so-intelligently.

"She's coming over," Harry said suddenly, pointing towards a small figure traveling in the direction of Hagrid's hut.

She was rather close now, close enough to see her face clearly, and he had just opened his mouth to speak when she froze dead in her tracks, a look of terror on her face. "Thestrals!" she suddenly shrieked, arm raised and pointing towards the skeletally-thin winged horses.

"Wha?" Harry said turning in surprise towards the creatures behind him, before facing the young girl again.

"Carriers of Hell! Demons to the underworld! Devils carrying death upon their wings!" she hysterically shrieked, eyes wide.

"No, no! That's just a superstition!" their Care of Magical Creatures professor stated.

But it was too late; already she was fleeing back towards the castle as fast as her short legs could carry her. Next thing Harry knew he was running after her, simply because it seemed like the right thing to do. As his feet beat against the ground beneath him, he couldn't help but wonder how she could see the thestrals. _Who did she kill? _he thought to himself, before realizing the mistake in that sentence and, shocked with himself, quickly corrected it to _Who did she **see** killed?_

By the time he reached the Gryffindor common room he had lost sight of the young girl. Before he could ask Hermione the whereabouts of their young friend she questioned him.

"What happened?" the bushy-haired girl asked nodding towards the first year girls' dorms.

Harry, still panting from his sprint, flopped onto a seat near Hermione and leaned closer. "She can see thestrals," he whispered.

Hermione put a hand over her mouth. "That poor girl," she sympathetically whispered.

The Boy Who Lived raised an eyebrow. "I think it'd be better if we spent our time wondering about _who_ she saw die."

"Probably a grandparent or something, like Neville," Hermione replied in an unconcerned tone. "That poor girl! And thestrals look rather odd, don't they?" she said, still worried about their young friend.

Harry nodded, thoughts still on who she could have seen die.

* * *

The sun had fully set. Dinner had been eaten and everyone had already returned to their common rooms. Harry and Ron were in the middle of a game of Wizard's chess, nearby a cold dark window, when the girl whose name they did not know came in through the portrait hole and took a seat nearby, watching the chess board. They both gave her a glance out of the corner of their eye but, unsure of what they could say, simply continued their game.

"E7," Ron spoke, his bishop swiftly moving to the designated spot.

"A5," Harry countered, moving his rook out of harm's way.

"A5," Ron said, a smile on his face as another bishop captured the rook.

Harry frowned slightly. What should he do now? Moving pawns was always safe. "D4," he said, the pawn slowly moving forward two spaces.

"D5," Ron moved his pawn forward, effectively blocking one of Harry's pawns from continuing any further.

The messy-haired boy looked at the board, frowning slightly in concentration.

"Move your rook."

Harry suspiciously glanced towards the previously taciturn girl. "This one?"

"No, no. This one," she tapped the rook on the other side of the board.

"To where? H5?"

The girl nodded. Curious, Hermione walked over and also started watching their game. "Who's winning?" the bushy-haired girl asked.

"I am," Ron said at the exact moment Harry said "Ron is."

"You guys already finished your potions essay?" Hermione asked, curious.

"It isn't due for a while," Harry casually replied. "Not until the 4th."

"Um, Harry," his bushy-haired friend started, "Today's the 3rd."

"No it's not," Harry scoffed, still continuing his game of chess with Ron.

"Yeah, it is, mate," his red-haired friend said, capturing another pawn.

"Crud!" the Boy Who Lived vehemently exclaimed, diving into his book bag. "Want to take my place, Hermione?" he asked, already taking a seat and setting out his blank parchment.

"Can I?" the first-year Gryffindor spoke.

"Sure," Hermione kindly said.

Lupin's niece took the seat opposite of Ron and picked up a pawn, moving it forward one square while it squabbled, saying it could move by itself, thank you very much. She didn't seem to notice and instead waited for Ron's move.

"So you can see thestrals? F8," the red-haired boy inconspicuously tried to question her. She nodded very slightly and moved her bishop. "Who did you see die? E6."

"RON!" Hermione exclaimed.

"It's okay," the little girl said quietly. "I ran into a boy in the hallway and he said he could see thestrals, too, so we talked for a bit and now I feel better." She paused. "As far as who I saw die, I don't know their names, it was just some couple walking down the sidewalk."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione in a confused voice.

"It was this couple—a boy and a girl—walking down the street outside my house. I was looking out the window and I saw them accidentally run into this man walking the opposite direction. The man got really mad and started yelling, and it looked like the couple was scared, the girl about to cry. And then there was more yelling and the angry man took out his wand. And then there was green light and the girl fell to the sidewalk. And then the boy started yelling and there was more green light and he fell down dead, too. So the angry man pocketed his wand and kept walking." She said all of this in a casual tone, the type one might employ when talking about the weather. "I was seven," she finished, picking up and moving her rook.

The Golden Trio stared at her. "Just—just like that?" Ron faintly croaked before quietly whispering "B4."

She shrugged. "I didn't know them and it was a valuable lesson, learning not to make people mad." The girl picked up her bishop again despite its protests that it could move fine on its own; clearly she was used to a Muggle chessboard. "It took him, too, you know," she said looking up.

"What took him?" Harry quietly asked.

"And who's him?" Hermione whispered, as if she was unsure her voice could go much louder.

"The green light. It took Uncle Adoni, too. I didn't see it and Daddy wouldn't tell me anything about it but I just knew." _It took Daddy too, _she mentally added, wanting to speak but not having enough courage.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," Hermione said in a very quiet voice, her hands clasped over her mouth.

"Was the man caught? The one who killed the couple? C5," Ron finished.

"No, they never are," she said in a surprisingly light tone of voice. No one asked who "they" was.

"Is that why you came to live at Grimmauld Place? Because the killer was never caught?" Harry asked, now curious.

"No. That was a while ago, anyway," she replied, moving a pawn.

"So why did you come to live at Grimmauld Place? Because of Voldemort's second rise?" Harry inquired again.

"Who's rise?" she asked, turning towards the messy-haired boy who was currently gaping at her.

"You _don't know who Lord Voldemort is?_" Harry questioned in disbelief.

She shook her head, looking slightly scared at what their reactions might be.

"You haven't heard of You-Know-Who? D5," Ron also questioned.

She frowned slightly, thinking. "No, I know who You-Know-Who is. I'm confused now," she confessed. "Is that other name another name for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Voldermont?"

"Voldemort," Harry corrected, glad she wasn't totally clueless about the going-ons of the Wizard world. "So is that why you came to stay with Lupin? Because of Voldemort's second rise?"

"Um," she seemed to be thinking. "Kind of. More because, well. More because of Daddy, I suppose you could say." She moved her queen to the other side of the board.

"He wanted you to stay with Lupin?" Ron inquired before adding, "D1."

"I don't know. Maybe." The girl seemed to be more uncomfortable now, squirming slightly in her seat.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, leaning forward.

"Daddy…Daddy had to leave," she was looking down at her rather tightly wringing hands. It looked like there might have been tears in her eyes. "The—the green light took him, too," she said, a few tears silently carving their way down her face.

Hermione put her hands over her mouth in shock before walking over and giving the young girl a comforting hug. "Was that the last thing you saw before you left for Grimmauld Place?" she inquired, phrasing the question rather oddly due to the surplus of emotions.

The young girl took a deep shuddering breath and wiped the tears away from her eyes as Hermione took her seat again. "I'm okay," she said answering the question before it could be asked. "And no, the last thing I saw before I left for Grimmauld Place was green." She took a deep breath, fully regaining her composure, and moved her knight a few squares. "Lots and lots of green light."

The Golden Trio gave each other a few uneasy glances. "E5," Ron quietly stated in the uncomfortable silence.

"But—but if you saw lots and lots of the green light--" Hermione started, no one filling in the pause she left. "But if you saw a lot of green light then—_then you'd be dead_," the bushy-haired girl whispered the last part.

The young Gryffindor first-year in front of them didn't respond at first. Instead she plucked her knight from the board and, with a flick of her wrist, landed on the spot Ron's king had previously been occupying, sending it to the hard floor below with a loud _crack_, breaking it cleanly in half. "Maybe I am."

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

A/N: Please review.

Review Responses:

**lumiereal: **Yeah, it kind of was. I needed something to pass the time and showing her thinking allowed me to deal with some philosophical issues in addition to allowing the readers to see part of her mind. Thanks for reviewing.


	18. Collision in the Corrdior

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Collision in the Corridor**

The Golden Trio stared at the girl. "What do you mean _you might be dead_?" Ron asked in a surprisingly high-pitched voice, eyes wide.

The girl shrugged. "That means I won, right?" she asked, gesturing to Ron's fallen king.

"What? Oh, yeah," Ron replied, not really noticing that his king had broken in half on the floor below.

"Okay," she said, hopping down from her seat. "Good game. I should go start my charms homework, though," she finished, going up to her dorm and leaving the Golden Trio speechless.

"What—what does that mean?" Harry asked. "'_I might be dead'_?"

Hermione regained her composure first. "Maybe--maybe it's metaphorical?" she stated uncertainly. "Because she obviously isn't a ghost and she isn't troublesome enough to be a poltergeist."

"So? What if she's something between a ghost and the living?" Ron inquired.

"There _isn't_ anything between a ghost and the living!" Hermione angrily exclaimed.

Harry, sensing an argument brewing between his two friends quickly intervened. "Why don't we write to Lupin? We can ask him why she'd say something like that and ask him to please stop hiding stuff from us," Harry explained.

"Okay," Ron and Hermione both agreed, Hermione slightly more hesitant.

"Okay, good," their messy-haired friend replied, taking out some parchment and quickly scrawling a letter to their former professor. "Done! I'll go mail it right now," Harry told his two friends before dashing out of the portrait hole.

* * *

"I have it," Harry whispered to his friends, ripping open Lupin's letter the next morning. All three of them gathered around the scrap of paper and started reading.

_Harry—_

_I don't know why she'd say something like that but if I were you I wouldn't take it too seriously. She's a very intelligent girl but, being very young, is also somewhat naïve. Her current situation is very complicated, and somewhat dangerous, and that is the only reason we are not telling you everything—even all of the Order members don't know the whole story. It has nothing to with your age or who you are, simply to do with the fact that the less people who know, the better. I hope you are not insulted, Harry._

_Take Care,_

_Remus Lupin _

"At least Lupin admits he's hiding something from us!" Ron exclaimed quietly to his two friends.

"Yeah, but he wouldn't tell us _what_ he's hiding," Harry said, slightly annoyed at Lupin.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know what else we can do right now. We may have to accept that Lupin just isn't going to tell us," she spoke, a certain resignation in her voice. Ron raised his eyebrows and gave her a disbelieving look before she continued speaking, presumably in an attempt to prevent Ron's anger from surfacing; "That may change, but for now we have classes and I have to grab my books," she continued in a very business-like matter, standing up from the Gryffindor's table. "Anyone want to come with me?"

"Sure," Ron spoke, pushing plate away.

"I'll come, too," Harry added, not wanting to be the only one left out.

"I wish they would just tell us what the deal with her is!" their red-haired friend exclaimed as they started walking towards the Gryffindor tower.

"Yes, but they're not, and there's no good in complaining about it unless we decide to do something about it," Hermione curtly replied.

"I know, but I still wish we knew something about her. Like—hey! Watch where you're going!" Ron had just collided with a tall, slim boy walking the opposite direction.

"Watch where _I'm_ going?" he said with a bitter laugh. "You're the one who suddenly swerved into me."

"I did not!" Ron said, already revving for an argument.

"Well I certainly watch where I'm going," the other boy spoke, straightening his robes.

"And I don't?" asked Ron rhetorically before frowning for a moment, clearly thinking. "Hey, I know you! You're that Slytherin boy! The one in my Care of Magical Creatures class who can see thestrals!" Ron recalled, anger still in his voice.

"And let me say how flattered I am that you've bothered to learn my name," the boy sarcastically replied.

"Oh, shut up!"

"Temper, Weasley. I don't particularly feel like an argument this early in the morning."

"What makes you think I do? I have plenty of things I'd rather be thinking about!"

"Look, Weasley, I don't want to argue."

"Wait, were you that boy that she talked to?"

"What?"

"The first year who hangs out with us sometimes. You were the one she talked with, weren't you!"

"Yes, I was. So what?"

"You're a Slytherin!"

"Flattered, really."

"What'd you do, put a curse on her?"

"Once again, flattered. She was upset at the idea of thestrals so I simply told her there was nothing wrong with being able to see them."

"And that was all?"

"No, I decided to make her a supporter of the Dark Lord while I was at it. Yes, that was all!"

"Well, good! And stay away from her!"

"Who are you to act like you can tell me what I can and cannot do?"

"Look, just stay away from her, Slytherin."

"And people say _we're_ judgmental."

"What's that supposed to mean!"

"You know very well what it means."

"Why you—_Vuleravisti_!"

"_Desiste_!"

"Hermione!"

"Do you want to be caught dueling in the hallways? We'll lose points for Gryffindor!"

"Good to know that's the only thing you care about, Granger."

"Hey!"

"So have you figured it out yet?"

"What?"

"About the girl. Where she's from."

"What do you mean?"

"Know-it-all Granger doesn't know something?"

"Don't you dare insult her!"

"Ron, it's okay. What do you mean 'where she's from'?"

"Where she comes from. Haven't you figured it out yet?"

"No, and I still don't fully understand what you mean."

"Ah, well, perhaps it's a lost cause then."

"Hey! I'm just as smart as you! Smarter, even!"

"Grades aren't everything, Granger, and haven't you seen her pendant? I thought it'd be obvious."

"Yes, I've seen her pendant. What's so important about it?"

"You don't know? Perhaps Purebloods really do know more than Muggle-borns."

"How dare you insult her! She's ten times—a million times better than you!"

"I admit, I phrased that last sentence badly. I meant that Muggle-borns don't grow up hearing stories of magic so therefore when it comes to legendary objects they are a bit—ah—behind."

"Just stay away from us!"

"How ironic considering you were the one who started this whole argument."

"Shut up!"

"Is that your retort to everything?"

"Oh, be quiet!"

"Much better."

"Would you rather have me jinx you?"

"I doubt you could but before you respond I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this conversation short; I have a class to attend. Good luck with the pendant, Granger."

"Leave her alone!"

With a final smirk the Slytherin continued his way down the large stone hallway as the Golden Trio continued their way to the Gryffindor Tower.

"I wonder what he said to her," Harry thoughtfully spoke in the silence between them, referring to the first-year Gryffindor who had befriended them.

"I don't know. Nothing good," Ron replied, angrily glaring into the distance. "No good Slytherin," he added in an undertone.

"I wish I knew what he meant! What does her pendant have to do with anything?" Hermione said, frustrated at this piece of knowledge avoiding her grasp.

"Probably nothing," Ron told his bushy-haired friend. "I wouldn't be surprised if he just wanted to antagonize us."

"Well, I'm not so sure about that, although it was sweet of you to defend me," Hermione replied, her brain still occupied on their friend's pendant.

Ron turned a surprising shade of scarlet and looked away, not saying anything else.

"Who was that boy?" Harry asked his friends. "I remember the face but not the name."

"Oh, that was Nott. I'm actually quite surprised he'd talk with our first-year friend considering she's Muggle-born. Guess he didn't know that."

Harry nodded. "So what do we do now?"

Hermione sighed. "I'll try to figure out about that pendant but besides that," she released another sigh. "Besides that, we wait."

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

A/N: Only two chapters left! I really want to finish this story before the 16th so I basically can only have a few more chapters. Because of that, don't be surprised if there is a rather large time gap between this chapter and the next. Also, the incantation "Vuleravisti" is the incantation for a stinging hex, created by my friend (lumiereal) and I. Oh, and please review!

Review Responses:

**Anna**: Thank you for reviewing! And don't worry, you won't be kept in suspense for too much longer, the next chapter will be the second to last and reveal quite a bit.

**lumiereal**: Really? Because right before you said you thought she was dreaming. And she is supposed to be rather odd, so I'm glad she comes across that way, although people can be rather odd with their superstitions and fears, also. However, I will say that there are more factors than those which show through Harry's point of view.


	19. Truth Unveiled

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Truth Unveiled**

Snow was falling gently outside of Hogwart's doors. For every student with a packed trunk there was at least one calling out for a lost sock or a misplaced charms book. The Hogwarts express would be leaving soon and for once Harry had not signed up to stay over the winter break. Him, Hermione, Ron, and the nameless first-year Gryffindor who had befriended them would all be returning to Grimmauld Place for Christmas.

"I can't find my Prefect's badge!" Ron exclaimed to his roommate.

Harry shrugged. "Sorry, mate, I haven't seen it."

"Uggh. Do you know where Hermione is?" the red-haired boy inquired.

"Probably at the library, considering her trunk's packed," Harry told Ron.

"Still trying to find stuff out about that pendant, eh?"

"Undoubtedly," replied the Boy Who Lived.

"Ah! Here's my Prefect's Badge! What's it doing under the dresser?" asked Ron rhetorically.

Harry shrugged again. "We should go down to meet the train soon."

"Yeah. Okay, I'm ready to go now." Ron stood up and started dragging his trunk down the stairs, Harry walking behind him.

"Hello, Hermione. Find anything?" Harry greeted his friend upon their arrival to the common room.

"No!" she exclaimed in a very frustrated tone of voice. "It's been almost a month! And I still haven't found a single piece of information! Not in _Magical Artifacts_, or _Enchanted Muggle Objects_ or—"

"'Mione. Calm down. It's Winter Break! Besides, we'll definitely be able to find something out about her when we're at Grimmauld Place."

"Who's 'her'?" inquired the first-year Gryffindor, appearing rather suddenly.

"Augh! Hi! No one!" Ron replied rather hurriedly.

The young girl looked slightly hurt, obviously being able to tell that Ron was hiding something, but didn't say much else.

"Let's go down to the train," Harry spoke in the silence that followed. The group silently agreed and they started the long walk down to the front of Hogwarts.

Just as they were going down their fifth staircase (Harry was counting) the quiet first year spoke; "I'm going home, you know."

"Really? That's wonderful, that you'll be able to see your parents!" Hermione replied, about to give the young girl a hug when the first-year gave her a rather vicious glare, stopping her in her tracks. "What's wrong?" asked Hermione instead.

"Lupin says they're sending me home," the girl repeated in a rather furious tone of voice.

"Isn't—isn't that good?" Hermione inquired while the two boys stayed silent.

"Look. It's like—" the girl started angrily, before taking a deep breath and continuing in a much calmer tone. "I'm going to miss Hogwarts and I'm going to miss you three," she explained in a tone which could even be considered sad.

"Aw, well we're going to miss you, too," Hermione replied.

The girl gave a sad smile. "But let's not think about that for now."

* * *

Unfortunately, that comment was much easier said than done as the exact date of her departure approached.

"I can't believe you're not going to be here for Christmas!" Hermione exclaimed the day before the young girl would have to leave.

She gave a sad smile. "Yeah. I wish I didn't have to leave but they say it's for the best."

"Well at least we're going to see you at Hogwarts, even if we won't be able to see you for most of the break," replied Hermione.

"Actually," the little girl looked at her shoes, before continuing in a tone which clearly stated that she didn't want to say what she had to, "I'm not going to be returning to Hogwarts. And you can't owl me either."

"What? Why?" Hermione asked, unable to believe her ears.

"You just can't, I'm sorry. I'd love it if I could keep in touch with you three but I just can't. I'm sorry," she whispered the last words. It looked like she was very unhappy, with tears filling her eyes.

"It's okay," Hermione quickly said. "We know it's not your fault."

"Thank you," the girl whispered.

"Why don't I give you your Christmas gift now, since tomorrow you'll be busy packing?" Hermione inquired in a much happier tone.

The girl lightly brushed the tears from her eyes. "Okay," she spoke, still rubbing her eyes.

The bushy-haired girl left for a moment but quickly returned with a brightly wrapped package. "Here," she excitedly said, handing the gift to the young girl.

"Thank you," she quietly replied, carefully unwrapping and opening the box. "What's this?" she curiously asked, pulling out a brown bag.

"It's a book bag but it has a charm cast on it so all of the objects you put into it shrink while they're residing in there and then when you pull them out they become normal size again. It means you can carry a lot more with it weighing a lot less."

The girls face lit up. "Thank you!" she happily exclaimed, giving Hermione a tight hug.

"You're welcome and Merry Christmas two days early."

* * *

The Golden Trio stood together, looking at the small girl in front of them. "I guess this is goodbye," the timid girl started.

"Yeah," Hermione whispered into the near-empty room; their friend was leaving today. She stood in front of them, short and brown-haired as always, yet somehow looking different. For some odd reason the only thing bag she was bringing with her was the bag Hermione had given her as a gift the day before. It was very heavy though, and presumably filled with a great number of the objects that she had acquired here. Harry noticed, though, that she had left all of her robes in her room and was currently wearing a very Muggle ensemble, the one she had arrived in, actually.

"It's too bad, I would have liked to spend more time with you three." The trio of friends gave small murmuring sounds of agreement. "Bye," she finally spoke, turning around and opening the door behind her.

"Wait! Aya!" Harry blurt out.

The girl turned around, a look of surprise on her face. "You…know my name?" she stated wondrously.

"Not at first, but I made the effort to learn it recently," Harry replied. "I want to apologize, for whenever we were kind of cold to you."

The girl smiled. "Thank you, and apology accepted. I also want to say…thank you for supporting me, and trying to help me whenever you could." She suddenly ran forward and embraced Harry. "I'm never going to forget you three, or the Order of the Phoenix. Thank you. And thank you for the gift, too, Hermione. Goodbye, you three."

"Goodbye," the three spoke at different intervals.

"Goodbye," she replied.

"Oh, wait, Aya, I wanted to ask you when your birthday was," Hermione quickly interjected. "So I can try and send you an owl, even if you don't think you'll be able to receive it."

The girl gave a sad smile. "That's sweet of you, Hermione. My birthday is the second Blue Moon of its year, March 31st, 2018. Goodbye!" she reiterated before finally closing the door and leaving their lives forever.

The Golden Trio gawked at the spot where she had stood a mere moment before. "2018…" Ron weakly repeated. "2018…"

"How is that possible? March 31st 2018 isn't going to occur for 22 years," Harry spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I guess that explains…some things…" Hermione spoke as they started walking.

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"Like why we can't write her," the bushy-haired girl quietly explained as they reached their rooms. "Where are my books!" she suddenly exclaimed upon opening her trunk.

"What?" her red-haired friend questioned, caught off guard.

Hermione took out a small piece of paper and started reading from it. "'Dear Hermione, I feel horrible about taking your books but you must believe me when I say that I need them badly as they are the only way I can further my education. Please forgive me and let me wish you good luck with your life as this will probably the last time I am in contact with you. Take care, Aya.'"

* * *

"Was she sent back successfully?"

"Forward more like, and yes, the Prior Incantatem worked surprisingly well."

"So there's not a trace of her left?"

"Nothing but the memories left in people's minds."

"I do wish we didn't have to send her back, but she does not belong in this time, and only trouble can come if she were to stay here. Did you ever find out why she could tell you were a werewolf?"

"She was born on a blue moon, the second one of the year actually, which is a rare occurrence, but there haven't been any cases of this before."

"Do you think she could have met you in the future?"

"I already thought of that but I doubt it. She probably would have known my name, then."

"I suppose that then it is simply destined to be another one of the mysteries of life."

"Agreed. Say, was Sullivan ever caught?"

"No, I'm sorry to say he managed to escape arrest."

"Oh, that's too bad."

"Yes, but another day another chance."

* * *

In the Department of Mysteries, row 84, sits a rather odd, glass-woven orb. Like all of the surrounding orbs it contains the record of a prophecy, but this one has no third nor fourth name. The initials, F.H.R and K.T.P., have long ago lost any meaning they once possessed and the words contained within it are forever lost, unless someone dares to smash the gently glowing orb. All around it other orbs sit extinguished, their prophecies having already been fulfilled, but this one sits, basking in its gentle light, waiting until the day when the words within it shall come true. People long ago stopped trying to figure out what it meant, not paying it much heed, and now both the speaker and the receiver of the prophecy are no longer alive to recall it. However, if someone were to smash this delicate orb, they would hear a rather confusing prophecy, one that would not make much sense until large quantities of time had passed since its creation.

"_ONCE ALL HOPE HAS BEEN LOST, AND THE WORLD IS BATHED IN DARKNESS, A NEW LIGHT SHALL COME…BORN ON A DATE THAT ONLY OCCURS TWICE IN THAT CENTURY, THE ONE OF THE BLUE MOON WILL BE MARKED BY POWERS THAT OTHERS OF SAME BIRTH HAVE NOT…AND WITH EXPERIENCES THAT OTHERS OF THE TIME KNOW NOT, THE ONE OF THE BLUE MOON WILL GIVE HOPE TO A MUCH TRODDEN-UPON GROUP, ULTIMATELY RESCUING THEM FROM THE EVER PRESENT DARKNESS...THE ONE OF THE BLUE MOON SHALL BESTOW LIGHT AND RENEW HOPE…_

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

A/N: Only the epilogue left now, and I will put it up on the 15th, or very, very, early on the 16th. Please review!

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	20. Epilogue

**Seeing the Past, Present, and Future**

**Epilogue**

A circle of fifteen or so children sat in a group, warming their hands upon the small fire in the middle. The wind swept in through broken windows and cracked door frames but the guard their bodies provided kept the fire from being extinguished.

"I hereby c-call to order the O-Order of the Phoenix," a girl spoke, her teeth chattering from the cold. Brown eyes surveyed the 15 or so teenagers and young adults in front of her. Although she was not the oldest, it would have been obvious to any outsider that she was the leader. They formed a rather haphazard looking group; all of them wore Muggle clothes, and most of them at least one jacket or cloak. Sitting in an abandoned, dilapidated building, outsiders would probably consider them simply a gang plotting their next bad deed, but others might know better. If one looked closely they would notice that the fire was not burning in a pot filled with timber, but rather a pot half-filled with water. In addition to that, every single one of the teens held one thing in common: a long, cylindrical piece of wood, with an extraordinary core. Some held veela hair, others dragon heartstring, or phoenix feather, and one even held unicorn hair, a rare event now that they had been labeled as endangered.

"Is everyone h-here?" the girl spoke again, her teeth still chattering. The group nodded, with a few murmurs of agreement. "Okay, g-good. Let the record s-state that today is M-March 31, 2037, the s-second blue moon of its year." Murmurs of agreement again. "First of all, a moment of silence for all of the Muggles that have been killed this week and all of the Muggle-born witches and wizards we could not save." Bundled in cloaks, everyone clasped their hands together and closed their eyes for a minute, honoring the dead. Not a decibel of noise could be heard in the building except the small, crackling fire in the middle. "Okay. Today l-let's break into two groups again. Nozomi, why d-don't you lead the second group this t-time?" A girl only a few years younger than the leader nodded, her black hair staying partially over her eyes as was the Muggle-style. "Here's _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 3_, if you want another book just come over and exchange it." The girl nodded as she leaned forward and took the book, clasping it protectively against her body. "I d-don't think I have to remind you t-that these are the only books we g-get." Nozomi nodded as the leader continued talking. "Okay, so you t-take the second g-group and I'll take the f-first, as usual. Any comments or complaints?" the girl asked, not rhetorically, but rather with a certain kindness in her voice. No one spoke and a few shook their heads. "Okay, so—" a large clattering noise was heard directly outside of the building they were currently residing in. The group quickly stopped whatever noise or movement they might have been producing before and extinguished the fire, sitting perfectly still. Death Eaters rarely went into the bad areas of Muggle cities but only one exception to the norm could easily cost them their lives. In this time Muggle-born witches and wizards were not allowed to learn magic; few survived to adulthood, anyway. Lord Voldemort was not technically the head of the Ministry of Magic, but considering the power he wielded over the magical community he might as well have been. The Ministry did almost nothing when it came to the subject of Death Eaters because they, like the rest of the magical community, were too terrified to punish or reprimand them in the slightest. Because of this, Death Eaters were given the greatest of respect and almost always the whole community would know of their allegiance to the Dark Lord.

"It's okay, I think it's just a homeless Muggle," the leader spoke in the silence after peering out of a shattered window. "Re-light the fire."

The group silently complied, one member leaning forward and whispering "_Incendio_."

"Okay, so," the girl started again, this time in a much quieter tone of voice. "Before we start training, I want to mention that I think I may have found another inconspicuous Muggle-born wizard. However, I want at least a third of the group to see him and state their opinion on whether or not we should invite him in before we consider that course of action."

The group nodded and one of the more experienced members, the second one to join, spoke. "Will you give us his statistics afterwards?"

The leader nodded. "If it is decided that he is suitable then we're going to have to steal another wand from Ollivanders. I know normally I do the deed but, Aaron, I think your Disillusionment charm is advanced enough you can do it this time, if you want to."

A sandy-haired boy on the other side breathlessly nodded. "Do we leave any money, normally?"

The leader sadly shook her head. "We can't convert our Muggle money to wizard money without being noticed and if we leave Muggle money then people will become aware that there are Muggle-born witches and wizards with wands, and we can't let that happen. I'm sorry, I'd like to be able to pay him for the wands too," she quietly spoke.

Aaron nodded. "It's okay, I understand. Would I have to cast a Disillusionment charm on the boy too?"

"Yeah. I'll lead you through it another time because I have to show you which windows to use Alohomora on and stuff like that."

"Okay," the sandy-haired boy replied before another member of the group spoke.

"Where does this boy live? Just roughly, I mean," asked another girl.

"At my old orphanage, actually," the leader told the group. "One advantage of him living there is that it means he'll be able to sneak out to our meetings more easily," she explained, mentally sighing, picturing the gray carpet and chemically-clean windows. She remembered that orphanage well. The fifth stair from the bottom squeaked and only the window in the room next to her's opened without making a noise. After her father had been killed by Death Eaters she had attempted to live on the streets, but ultimately failed and turned herself into a Muggle orphanage despite her aversion to large crowds of Muggles. She had lived there for four years, until she was 13 and adopted by a couple who already had one daughter. That made it even tougher to sneak out and practice her magic, especially since she shared a room with the Muggle daughter. She knew she was a disappointment to her adopted parents, scraping only passing grades in classes and sneaking out at night (they thought she was going to parties), but she just couldn't force herself to submit to the Muggle world. Throughout every class, with every dissected rat and every endless polynomial, she couldn't help but look out the window and think _I don't belong here. _So she increased the amount she studied. During science when they were supposed to memorize the Periodic Table of Elements she would mentally review any new spells she had learned, murmuring their incantation under her voice and using her finger as a representation of the wand movements. Some people looked at her funny, but already she had developed a reputation as having an attitude. She didn't want to, but she knew it was too late to change it. So she studied more. She didn't really know _why_ she was bothering to learn all of these spells when chances were she'd never use them, it simply seemed like what she should do, and that to submit entirely to the Muggle world would be a horrible thing to do. And then it happened. There was another Death Eater attack. Normally when she saw that glittering skull in the sky she'd flee, but for some reason she didn't want to this time. So she cast a Disillusionment charm on herself and approached the smoldering remains of a once fine house, looking among the wreckage with her wand lit.

"Help me…please…anyone…" a pitiful voice moaned while the 15-year old girl whipped her head around, looking for whom the voice could belong to. In a far corner underneath the debris, lay a badly injured, sandy-haired boy who looked to be about 11. Eleven. The age rung a bell in her head.

Quickly removing the Disillusionment charm, she approached him, not caring whether he was a Muggle or not. Stooping down, she attempted to push away the large pieces of wood that was trapping him, but failed and instead decided to use a Wingardium Leviosa charm. He didn't seem to notice her attempts, or the fact she had just used a cylindrical piece of wood to rescue him, but instead continued his moaning and crying. She noticed that he was bleeding in a few spots and shaking uncontrollably. "Come on," she kindly spoke, helping the young boy sit up.

"W-we were h-having dinner and al-all of a sudden these p-people burst into the h-house, and I d-don't know where my p-parents are and t-they hurt me b-but I don't know how b-because all they had was these l-long, skinny pieces of wood, a-and they were calling m-me a 'Mudblood' and I d-don't know what t-that is and I just w-want everything to go back to the w-way it was," the boy broke into heavy sobs.

"Everything's going to be ok," she spoke, drawing him into a hug while wondering what she could do. "That was probably the Cruciatus curse," she thought aloud, before deciding to ask the boy a question. "Tell me, have you ever done anything accidentally when you were really mad, or frustrated?"

"W-what do you mean? I-I've lost my temper b-but everyone does sometimes," the boy said, obviously concerned she would be mad at him.

"I mean, anything really unusual," she pressed.

"Once w-when I had failed a-a test it burned up r-right in front of my eyes, e-even though I hadn't used m-matches or anything," the boy trailed off. "W-Was that bad? I didn't m-mean to!"

"It's okay, there's nothing wrong with that," she quickly spoke, thoughts swirling within her mind. So he was a wizard. Uncalled for, the image of Harry, Ron, and Hermione with the Order of the Phoenix floated to her mind and tears stung her eyes. They were all dead, every one of them, killed by Lord Voldemort. She wanted to avenge them; she wanted to stop the oppression of Muggle-born witches and wizards; she wanted all of the pain caused by Death Eaters to stop. And it was that Friday evening, with the full moon shining and the glittering skull overhead, that the idea of a rebel group started forming in her mind.

In honor of Dumbledore they decided to call themselves the Order of the Phoenix. Invisibly rescuing Muggles and Muggle-borns, they trained each other from their leader's memories of the past and the 7 books she had, books which she made sure never left her side for fear of them being stolen. They stayed in a tattered brown bag, which had a specialized shrinking charm, and she made sure to bring that bag with her everywhere she went.

In the four years since she had rescued Aaron from the wreckage of his former life, he had matured incredibly. The first impression she had received of a scared, sandy-haired boy without control of his life had long since vanished and now he was even skilled enough to perform a charm that most his age couldn't--the Disillusionment charm. Every one of them had matured, really. Nozomi had been unconcerned about the world around her before, but now she could both teach and receive knowledge, caring incredibly about the innocent lives that they could save.

The leader took a deep breath, allowing the cold evening air to slip into her lungs. Meetings were no time for reminiscing, even if it was only for a split second. "Okay, so are we ready to start?" she asked the 15 teenagers in a circle around her.

"Just one thing," Nozomi started.

The leader nodded. "Yes?"

"We—" the ebony-haired girl glanced at the rest of the group--"We want to wish you a happy 19th birthday," Nozomi continued. "Happy Birthday, Aya."

The brown haired girl smiled at the group. "Thank you," she sincerely spoke, "But we can celebrate later. For now there are still people out there that need our help."

They nodded and with a quick _lumos_ the whole group lit the tips of their wands, bringing them together. "To Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Weasley, and the Order of the Phoenix," they whispered hope into the evening air.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

A/N: This is officially the end of this story. Thank you for reading this whole story and staying with me despite the sporadic updates. I would, however, really, really, like to hear your opinion on this chapter and the story in general so please review. Also, if you have any questions on this story, simply leave it in a review and I'll e-mail you the answer. Thank you again!


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